


Heart of Stone

by BlueEyedArcher



Series: Outlast One-Shots [32]
Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternative Universe - Kingdom, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Blind Waylon, Bonding, Chris Walker - Freeform, Chris/Miles later on, Curses, Dreams and Nightmares, Fluff, Fountain of Youth, Frottage, Grinding, Human Sacrifice, Immortality, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Romance, Isolation, Jeremy Blaire - Freeform, Jeremy Blaire Being an Asshole, Loneliness, M/M, Medusa AU, Medusa Eddie, Miles Upshur - Freeform, Minotaur!Chris, Moral Dilemmas, Mutation, Naga, Naga x Human, Non-Penetrative Sex, Prophecy, Prophetic Visions, Shedding, Teratophilia, Testing the bonds, Trauma, Trials, Walrider - Freeform, hunter!jeremy, monster x human, prayers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-02-09 02:27:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 62,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12878235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueEyedArcher/pseuds/BlueEyedArcher
Summary: There once was a Prince, so beautiful and proud, so jealous and greedy that he believed he could do as he pleased and all would bow before him. In his insolence, he enraged the gods and invited a curse upon himself. Turned into a hideous beast forever alone and unloved. That is until the village at the base of the mountain decides to send a sacrifice in hopes to soothe the creature's anger.





	1. Heart of Stone

**Author's Note:**

> I may continue this some time down the line. Possibly after I finish a few other stories of mine. for now it's just part of my One-shots collection but anyone who knows me, knows there is always a chance a story will be expanded even while in that collection. 
> 
> Also, lately I have a thing for Naga Eddie. Like I love the idea of Eddie being a Naga and loving on an unwary Waylon. Rather it be here in this Medusa AU or in my Naga Eddie/Hiker Waylon one. Might even write some sexy Naga Eddie one-shots later on.

“I just want to be loved!” A voice bellowed out into the darkness of the cave, deep inside a forbidden stronghold in the mountains. Where the rising heat of geysers and springs warm the chill of the frozen mountain landscape. Temple ruins are carved into the walls and fixed deep inside endless caverns of marble, speckled with quartz growing out of the walls, glowing in the darkness and shining with their own phantom hue. Here where men once sought shelter and healing from the ancient springs, a creature lurks these halls, the only living being left within the halls, cursed to wander in vain and seek salvation that will never come.

 

He takes whatever offering he can, when the weak and the sick come seeking the healing waters, they disregard the rumors of the creature, only to find out too late of it’s existence. One look into its glowing blue orbs, so tantalizing and magnificent, they can not look away before the cursed gaze brings them to ruin. A stone sickness creeping across their bodies, devouring flesh and freezing them solid in their frightened expressions. The horror branded into their features, the twisting bodies, struggling to get away and free themselves only to creature fractures in their stone bodies. No one was exempt from this curse. The frail, the strong, the young and old, men, women and children. All were fair game for this curse and only furthered the misery of the creature as he was once again cast into loneliness.

 

Centuries have passed and no one has been able to free him of his curse or disrupt this endless loneliness. The brief visits only solidify the pain and drive it deeper like a broken blade into his chest. He cursed the gods of the mountains for their cruel trickery and the torment bestowed upon him. Once an Prince of proud lineage, he was a rich and glorious royal who was popular with many a man and woman. He had the pick of the land of anyone he desired to bed at any given time. Pockets lined heavy with gold and body draped in the finest silk. His pride and elegance rivaled that of many Kings and his beauty could charm even the gods themselves. Yet he ever felt fulfilled in all his life, growing bored rather quickly and flitting from place to place. He adored the beautiful and the strange. Upon hearing rumors of a brilliant temple that harbored a secret treasure, rarer than any jewel or finery. It was the power of healing and some even believed eternal youth.

 

The Prince became greedy and demanded his soldiers secure the temple for His Majesty. They ransacked the local villages that protected the hidden mountain pass that led to the temple and slaughtered many who stood in their path. They burned down villages who were deemed too close to the temple and ended the lives of anyone who had knowledge of this sacred place to ensure no other would try to take what the Prince claimed for himself. This behavior raised the ire of the Gods who found the prince must be stopped, putting obstacles in his path, setting a plague upon his soldiers and sending the wolves of the mountains to rampage through their camps at night and kill the men while they sleep.  Still the Prince made his way to the temple gates, the hidden entrance resembling a cave, set back into the Mount Massive stonework. Ancient runes marking it as a blessing from the god’s themselves.

 

The soldiers raided the temple and killed the holy men who served the gods within. The women who took care of the springs and altars were treated like palace slaves and the soldiers had their way with them while the Prince spent his time exploring the hallowed halls until he came upon the forbidden spring. Here is where the rumors spoke of eternal youth and beauty. Something the Prince did not want to miss out on. He disrobed, and stepped forth into the waters, unknowing that his actions had infuriated the gods. They sent down a serpent to taint the holy waters, slithering through the calm spring until it wrapped itself around his legs. Before the Prince could cry out for help or fight the creature off, it had sunk it’s fangs into the Prince’s neck and infected him with a curse.

 

The Prince achieved his desires of eternal youth but with a price. The serpent venom mutated his form, his legs binding together to form a long serpent like tail. Solid black with white along his belly and white patterns checkered throughout the back. A slightly blue hue tinting the pitch black glossy scales. Fangs and claws replaced his perfect smile and strong hands. His dazzling blue orbs that enchant all who encounter him shall turn those who meet his gaze to stone. Never again shall he use mankind for his own selfish purposes. Never again will he be worshiped, seen only as the monster he truly is and cursed to witness all turn to stone just like his rotting heart.

 

The prince has endured this curse for so long, he can no longer remember the life outside those hallowed walls. He couldn’t remember what the sun looked like or what people sounded like when they weren’t screaming in pain or cowering in terror. What it felt like to be touched by a hand that was warm and full of life. His serpent form slithered throughout the caverns, weaving in and out of the statues of what used to be people come seeking help only to find their end. Occasionally his tail would hit one and it would crumble upon touching the earth. At first he was furious but overtime, he came to rely upon these stone figures, his only form of companionship.

 

He was upset as once again, more people had come from below the mountain in search of the legendary healing springs and eternal pool only to be turned to stone not long after arriving. He didn’t know why he even bothered protecting them anymore then he knew why he bothered trying to greet them. He tried desperately to keep his distance but they’d start calling him rude names and would attack first, forcing him to defend himself, thus losing yet another chance at ending his solitude. From then on, despite it being an accident, they would come for him with a vengeance for their lost comrade. Even while the creature tried to warn them not to come near. They would take it as a threat or a challenge, so it always was with humans. So stupid and naive.

 

Not long after, the village below sent more men to combat the creature but each time, they fell before the Prince in a heap of stone. Days passed by and the villagers changed their tactic. Seeing as violence did not break the creature’s claim on the temple, they instead sent a young man with a fair complexion and the palest golden hair that encircled his head like a halo. He was escorted to the peak of the mountain pass as the villagers supplies him with a blindfold, a walking stick and a pack of offerings filled with food and garments made with silk and sheer fabrics. He was left to continue on his own into the darkness of the cavern, feeling his way through until he reached the main chamber where the maze of statues began. He would bump into them and yelp in surprise, feeling out the cold stone bodies before moving on to the next only to bump into more.

 

The creature was intrigued by the young man, capable of sensing the immense fear within but he tried his best to keep moving on. Even as his feet stumbled over the rocks and rubble. The young blonde haired male pitched forward after tripping on a particularly large piece his walking stick missed and fell forward towards the broken dagger of one of the most recent groups of soldiers. The serpent lunged forward and caught the young man, hooking it’s arms underneath the blonde male’s and lifting him back up onto his feet. The male’s blindfold slipped free of his face from the sharp motions, allowing his eyes to meet the serpent’s directly. The creature froze in place, already anticipating the curse to spread but was shocked.

 

His deep blue orbs met pale milky eyes and it took a minute or so for the serpent man to realize the youth was blind. Rather he was blinded since birth or it came over time, he was unsure but he had never been more happy to gaze upon the sickly milky pools in all his life. Holding the male’s face gently, mindful not to scratch him with his long sharp claws and gazing into those pale orbs, adoringly. A deep cheerful purr rumbled out of his chest as his tail coiled around the younger male in delight. The blonde made a soft sound of surprise, tensing in the serpent hold and half expecting to be devoured by the strange creature of the temple. But the serpent had no intention of feasting upon the flesh of man, especially not when he had such a sweet little lamb laid at his feet. He couldn’t bare to part with an opportunity like this, ending his sorrows.

 

“What is your name?” The creature crooned pleasantly, wrapping his arms around the smaller male until he had lifted him from the ground and cradled him to his chest. The serpent half slithering across the ground, undisturbed by the debris as it’s hardened scales moved with ease, displacing some of it to be pushed off to the side. Past the main open chamber, there was a prayer chamber, a chamber of worship, three chambers for the Springs, one on either side of the temple and in the very furthest there was the eternal pool. In between were healing rooms and some of them were filled with plush cushions and bedding.

 

The serpent had collected most of these into the largest of the relaxation chambers where small fountains sprouted from the earth and trickled into a stream then encircled the room. The entire floor was covered in these lush cushions and sheer curtains draped around it, cloaking the room in darkness and allowing the bright quartz crystals to shimmer and shine like stars above. It was here that he had brought the young man, resting him on the pile of pillows in a myriad of colors and soft pleasant fabrics. He removed the pack from the boy’s back and set his walking stick aside before coiling his tail around him, releasing a pleasant rumble from his chest like the rolling of distant thunder.

 

The human seemed uneasy at first, finding everything was happening so quickly, he didn’t have time to be nervous or afraid. More focused on feeling out his surroundings. Even as the strong muscular form pressed against his body and the tail wrapped around his body once more, shifting against his skin, the smooth scales flush against his body and causing some of his clothing to ride up. The place was surprisingly warm for being so high up in the mountain and the creature was much the same. Thawing his chilled skin with it’s own body heat. He was still stumbling over everything around him, trying to grasp what was happening as quickly as possible and forgetting to answer the earlier question. That is until the creature repeated the question. “Your name darling? Do you have one?”

 

“Oh, um- yes. Uh, Waylon. They call me Waylon.” He sighed softly, chewing on his bottom lip for a moment before he felt the creature rub it’s cheek against his affectionately. The clawed fingers combing through his golden locks, so gentle in their motions that Waylon barely felt them nor did he get the notion to fear their sharpness.

 

“You have a beautiful name darling. You may call me Eddie.” He purred, one hand slowly stroking over the blonde’s shoulder and down his side as they shifted so that Eddie was lying on his back with the human boy resting against his chest. His deep blue orbs that he cursed so much stared up at the blind male, mesmerized by the milky pale blue swirls. So soft, like smoke dancing across the surface of a crystal lake. He found he could gaze at them for eternity.

 

“Eddie.” Waylon repeated slowly. He shifted in the creature’s embrace so he was sitting up a little more, propped up on his elbows at first. Eddie felt a giddy warm bubble up at the sound of his name on the lips of another as he watched the human curiously, loosening his hold as the human sat up and observed as shaking hands touched him across his chest. Fingers splayed as he felt out the dips and curves of muscle. A groan slipped out of the serpent before he could stop himself but it felt far too good, being touched by another living being. Warm fingers moving across starved flesh, yearning for more. “Ah- I’m sorry.” The hands withdrew with uncertainty at the sound but Eddie reached up with his claws and curled them around the boy’s wrists, bringing them back to his chest and placing his own palms over Waylon’s.

 

“No, it’s perfectly fine darling. Touch me asss much asss you like.” He held his hands there over Waylon’s until the blonde male continued to move his fingers over the curve of Eddie’s torso, fingers tracing the dips of muscle and smooth flesh over his ribs. Mapping out what the creature looks like with every touch. The soft smooth skin atop hard ridges of muscle and the faintest whispers of scars, pale lines on flesh easily healed by the springs and the curse of eternity. A low growl came from Eddie’s chest, the vibrations rising up to meet the trembling fingertips of the human when they moved lower to the serpents hips.

 

“That feels niccce.” He hummed and reached up to give the human a soft bit of praise. Fingers rolling through the male’s blonde locks and combing them back, curving around to cradle the side of his head. Palm pressing gingerly against his pale cheek, the shallow shadows caused by the light of the crystals casting down over them. Eddie’s tail had a faint bluish glow, his skin nearly sparkling in their presence but Eddie knew the human couldn’t see the beauty before him. Unable to grasp the wonders of the room they were in and savor the serenity. Eddie found that sad but at the same time it was reassuring to know he would not be able to gaze upon him and become cursed like all the rest as well as he was incapable of seeing him for the monster he really was.

 

Waylon’s motions froze in place as the palm rubbed his cheek. He tilted his head into the touch and closed his milky eyes, relishing in the warm palm on his skin. A soft pink hue rising on his cheeks with a bubbly warmth forming in his stomach. He felt the fingers slide down from his cheek to caress his chin and draw him down closer to his chest. Waylon gave in to the silent command and lowered himself, resting his head against the creature’s chest while he raised a hand to run up along Eddie’s shoulder to the side of his throat up to his chin and jaw, caressing the side of his face and feeling the soft wisps of black hair that hung down, long and wild, barely contained in the silk ribbons tying them back. His fingers moved lightly across Eddie’s cheek to his temple then across his forehead. The serpent closed it’s eyes and felt the fingers slide over his face, molding to his features and mapping out every detail with slow precision. After a moment, Waylon withdrew his hand and murmured softly. “You seem to be very handsome sir.”

 

“Please, just call me Eddie, darling.” He purred and pressed his lips to Waylon’s forehead. His fangs barely concealed beneath them as he stroked a hand through Waylon’s hair. “Thank you.” He murmured before catching Waylon’s chin and lifting it slowly so the human gazed up at him. “You have sssuch beautiful eyessss darling. Your ssskin is like ivory and your hair like the finesssst ssstrandsss of gold.” Eddie hardly remembered much of the outside world. Only the things around the temple. The subtle reminders. The white ivory figures and golden tapestries in the hall of worship where the Altar of the Gods resides. Eddie spent centuries pleading for forgiveness amidst those halls and now he had received a blessing from them. Rather it be out of sympathy or a living reminder of the God’s presence. That they were always watching. He didn’t care. He would hold this boy, this gift so tightly. This precious blessing and never let it go. His fragile existence warmed his cold stone heart.


	2. More Then Skin Deep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie and Waylon's relationship continues to grow. Eddie goes through a shedding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is really short. I am still recovering from an injury I sustained a week ago but I am still driven by the urge to keep writing. And here I am with part 2 of the Naga AU piece. I intend to do more Medusa Eddie and Blind Waylon pieces int he future so keep an eye open and please let me know what you think in the comments below.

Waylon was still getting accustomed to his new place within the Naga’s Temple. It took him hours to find his way around without bumping into statues or tripping up on debris. His walking stick was a considerable help as his worthless eyes saw nothing more then the darkness that shrouded him. The only thing saving him from the Naga’s stony curse. though, he never feared the outcome of being petrified like all the others. When one lives life blind for long enough, fear becomes something that lingers only in dreams. Nothing is really scary anymore just as humiliation has become a sensation he’s grown numb to. Being made a fool and now, a sacrifice to appease those in the villages below. To stop the Naga from killing more people.

 

They even sent up gifts and baskets of food to help keep both sated and fed. Eddie rarely ever ate, telling Waylon that the positive side of living for eternity is that he could starve himself for as long as he wished and would never die. The food and rations were all saved for the blind human. Blankets and furs would be sent up to keep him warm but it was unnecessary. The Naga would curl it’s long black tail around it’s human pet’s body and keep him warm through even the coldest of mountain nights. When the time would come to bathe, they would wade into the pools together, the serpent tail coiled through the water to keep the human afloat and in the shallows. Eddie would submerge himself beneath the surface and slither between Waylon’s legs, giving him a boost in and out of the water, fearing he may slip on the steps.

 

The naga would dress him and warm him in his nest compiled of the most exquisite of silk bedding and pillows from all around the kingdom. More materialistic desires, never truly feeding the one thing the naga craved. No, not a single item, no matter how shiny, expensive or rare it was, could ever sate the eternal hunger of the cold hearted prince. The only warmth that would ever truly penetrate his tough scaly exterior was the gentle hands of a blind man with a head of curls more refined than the smoothest gold threads. The careful touch of fingers across his face as the other read his expression for cues towards his emotions. The way his thumbs would navigate around the sharp fangs that could easily rip the limbs from any man or beast. The way his human sought out the warmth of the cursed prince’s body as they lay in the nest of pillows gathered in the sleeping chamber of the temple.

 

His tail would curl around Waylon’s body protectively, keeping him close but hold him with all the same care and affection as the human would give in return. Strong arms wrapping around his lithe and fragile torso as he crooned to him until he’d fall asleep. His talons carefully stroking through the head of soft golden locks, offering comfort and tenderness. Eddie often feared that one day he would awake and the gods would take the last and only thing that truly mattered to him. That his beloved human would be snatched away, rather by the cruelty of the gods or the anger of the villagers down below. This small, fragile and pitiful human, with so many flaws and weaknesses that his own village thought nothing at the idea of sacrificing him to the beast in the temple mountain. This young man had become the one thing that mattered the most to him in the entire world and had finally managed to sate that desire that burned so intensely inside him for so many centuries. The god’s curse would surely come to claim what little bit of happiness he had finally managed to claim, in retaliation for all the souls his gaze has sent to the underworld, willing or not.

 

As the days passed by, the Naga had placed more distance between the human and itself. Often Waylon would awake to loneliness within the sleeping chamber and it's elegant bedding. The place beside him would be cold already, the distant sounds of the reptilian form slithering throughout the halls would be the only reminder that he wasn't completely alone. He would stumble around for his walking stick, patting the bedding around until his hands would find it and make his way out of the chamber, following the curve of the rounded walls towards the doorway. Some days it was quick and some days he would trail the entire wall all the way around before reaching the threshold again.

 

His walking stick bumped against the doorway as he eased his way out into the hallway, one hand feeling the wall as he went with the other used the stick to feel around at his feet. He heard the movement of scales on the smooth granite floors up ahead and the grating sound of something rough rubbing up against another object. It almost sounded painful to him as soft grunts and groans were stifled through clenched teeth. His footing slipped when he felt something thin and papery under foot, causing him to stumble forward and trip over the end of the serpent’s tail. His stick hitting the ground with a loud clatter and startling the naga from it’s place. “Darling…?” It asked in confusion, a soft hiss petering out of Eddie’s massive jaws as he slithered towards the human, helping him up to his feet. “Are you alright?”

 

“I- I’m alright.” Waylon murmured as his hands felt along the floor for his walking stick and discovered the strange parchment thin substance was sticking to his palms. “Eddie, what are you doing out here? What is this?” He asked as he peeled it off and felt it between his fingers.

 

“Oh, darling..” He sighed, reaching over to help his human back up on his feet and returning his stick to him. He helped peel away and dust off the male, removing the shreds of the translucent flakes. “I’m sssshhhheddding right now.” He explained, expecting a disgusted expression from the human’s face and maybe an appalled reaction, but Waylon simply looked confused.

 

“Shedding?” He inquired, leaning against his walking stick a bit, his pale wispy eyes gazing past the naga blankly as his brows furrowed. “Is it painful?”

 

Eddie shook his head then realizing the other couldn’t see the action, he elaborated. “Not really. Itssss jusssst incredibly uncomfortable and itchy.” He hissed out.

 

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Waylon offered, reaching out towards the naga and pressing his palm against his torso, feeling out the dark ebony scales. They felt strange, no longer the pristine smooth texture but something rougher, like sand on parchment, in odd areas there were creases or cracks in the skin, some places felt calloused or hardened like raised scales. Eddie groaned as the hand slid across the rough skin, driving a few more flakes away. His talons had been doing a number on it so far but he was wearing himself out faster then he could remove the pesky layers. He despised these times of the year, with the change of seasons on top of that, it was downright agonizing to endure.

 

“If you desssiiiire darling. You may.” He reached out and carefully scooped Waylon up into his arms, deciding it would be better to relieve this problem in one of the prayer rooms. There was plenty of space and he didn’t have to fuss with the clean up. His bright blue eyes glanced over the mess he had currently created between rubbing up along the statues of past foes. He found one that still wielded its sword and it was good enough to hit just the right spot but too small to hit the overall problem efficiently.

 

He slithered with his pet in his arms, towards the prayer room where shrines and soft incense burned, wafting the scent throughout the holy place. Waylon was adamant that they continue the rituals to the gods, seeking their favor with hopes of mercy towards the Naga. Eddie would argue against it but it was one of the few things the human could do on his own each and every day. He would give the offerings the villagers would send to lay across the altars at each of the gods’ pedestals. Feeling with his fingers, he could read the designated plaques and provide the correct offering for each. Eddie would stand by and watch, offering aid only in carrying the large baskets around for the human since his arms were often busy with their own tasks. Lately, even the naga had begun to silently pray beside his pet each evening, seeing no harm in it.

 

When they arrived, he gently set Waylon down and curled his long serpent form around his pet, giving the human enough space to move around and work. Waylon set his stick off to the side as he felt around for the rough scaly hide and quickly found it. He waited for Eddie to settle into place and get all of his serpent body within the prayer room before he started to offer light scratches at first. The excess skin easily flaked away and revealed the softer newer more sensitive skin beneath that the naga was working so hard to uncover. “You can ssscratch a little harder darling.” He cooed as his Waylon’s hands worked down along his back and the belly of his scaly body. Eddie wiggled a bit in place to resituate, soft mewls and groans leaving his chest as the human’s nails dug a little harder at the skin. Waylon was startled by these sounds and lessened his motions, fearing he may accidentally harm the creature. “Harder.” Eddie directed with a grunt as he slithered, moving his back to arch up into the touch and wiggle it out, causing the more complete portions of the skin to slide away at the end of his tail but the portion near his torso was the hardest to remove overall.

 

As Waylon worked his way up along Eddie’s waist and chest, his fingers shifted between meek scratches and harder rougher ones, feeling out what was okay or not. His pale sightless eyes gazing down blankly but his brows furrowed in deep concentration which had the Naga smitten with the blind little human. He was so intensely adorable to him. The prince would moan and writhe beneath the human’s attentive fingertips and whimper when they would lessen their friction. With immense frustration growing under the surface, his long talons reached out and gripped Waylon’s hands, not too rough but firm enough to take over and show the human how much pressure and firmness he desired in the actions to rid himself of the pesky layers of unwanted flesh.

 

From there on, it was smoother work as Eddie shifted his form from lying on his back to rolling over onto his belly. His arms folded underneath his head, the long raven hair falling freely to the side as he closed his eyes and groaned. His form stretched out, bumping against one of the pedestals and nearly knocking it over. It teetered only to be caught by the end of his tail and corrected before he went back to enjoying the deep massaging motions. Waylon’s concentration and determination had him nearly straddling Eddie’s back at the point where human skin met reptilian scales. He crooned deeply, flashing his sharp fangs as his jaws unlocked in a deep groan before melting once more beneath the human’s touches.

 

It took quite a while before both of them realized there was no more skin to shed but Waylon had worked Eddie’s sensitive skin and muscles so deeply, that he melted into a puddle on the floor. Drifting off to a gentle doze. The blind man noticed this with the change in Eddie’s breathing and the slow expansion and decompression of his broad torso. He smiled to himself, giving his arms a break and stretching their sore stiff joints before he joined the naga in his nap. His head resting against the back of Eddie’s shoulders, feeling the immense heat radiating off of the new and silky smooth flesh. He wrapped his arms around the creature, replicating their positions while asleep within the nest. Though his thoughts weren’t on a nice mid morning nap.

 

He desired only to enjoy the silence of the temple and the comforting beat of the naga’s heart within its chest. The soft scent of the incense was a nice companion to the tranquility of the temple. His fingers gently trailed over Eddie’s shoulders and teased through his long silky hair, feeling the unruly locks with their wild mane draping down to the naga’s back. He visited the vision he had of the naga in his mind. All the features and feelings he has gathered over these last few weeks in the creature’s presence and relishing in the image of what he assumed Eddie looked like. A very striking individual who lacked the fearsome presence his reputation alluded to.

 

So many vile and wicked tales had circulated the village when he lived among the people. He had heard so many, tales of a ruthless cold hearted prince, cursed by the gods to live eternity as the atrocity that mirrored his blackened soul. Very little of those tales were actually true, as he had come to find out. Of course, Eddie was very materialistic, but many others in the village valued their items more than was proper. Everyone had things they loved and when he considered the prince’s history, of being so lonely and cast aside, it was only natural that he would fill that void with items of luster and rarity. Occasionally, Eddie would even forget that Waylon could not see the beauties of the temple and often would attempt to show him things that could only be seen, rarely felt to be understood. The blind man did not resent him for this though.

 

The naga was mindful of his human companion, often guiding Waylon through the maze of statues and telling him the stories of each and every person. Waylon had a feeling that the naga often made these stories up as he did not know the beings beneath the stone but alluded that he had dreams about them, of their pasts and possibly even their futures which had unexpectedly ended with this abrupt situation. He often heard the naga when he’d mourn the passing of time, though the creature never let Waylon know it. At times when the creature assumed he was asleep, Eddie would wander the halls and lament. Forgetting that the temple echoed the slightest sounds around it and the tearful pleas and murmured would always reach back to the blind man’s ears.

 

 _‘If only they knew the real you.’_ Waylon murmured softly as he embraced the wide and warm torso of his companion. His sightless gaze fixed on the pedestals that surrounded them as his thoughts echoed up towards the gods. The same words repeated, wishing that the true self of this poor tormented creature could be witnessed and that the gods would revoke their curse. There was no such luck with those fairy tales. Waylon had to remind himself. Just as the gods had forsaken his sight, he feared Eddie will continue eternity in such a place, forever to wander these lonely silent halls and mourn the garden of souls that dotted the passageways, all lost at the end of his gaze.

 


	3. Silence in this Solitude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This amazing fanart of Naga!Eddie with Blind!Waylon is by theaurorazephyr from tumblr and AO3.
> 
> Please leave a comment below on what you think of part 3. I enjoy hearing all of your feedback immensely. It keeps me motivated! Thank you and enjoy!

 

 

 

 

 

“ _Eddie._ ” Waylon’s voice was a melody on the air, sweet and alluring like no other siren song, tempting him to gaze up at his lovely little human, striking blue eyes meeting the wispy sightless gaze. He felt the subtle weight of the blonde resting against his chest, the way he propped himself up on his elbows as he called out to the Naga and drew him from his deep sleep. He felt the male shift, warm palms gliding across his enlarged pecs, thumb rolling over the smattering of black scales, glossy against the firelight from the sconces surrounding them. He took a long slow deep breath and released it in a measured exhale, a pleasant hum resting in his chest as he raised his claws to gently brush the disheveled mess of golden locks out of the blind man’s face. Not for Waylon’s vision but to give the Naga a better view of those soft angelic features.

 

“Darling…” He crooned, watching as Waylon dipped his head to press his cheek against the larger hand. Feeling the claws card through the shaggy golden locks with adoration, the human moved to cuddle up to the Naga’s forearm and rest his head against his bicep. His blind gaze tilted in an odd fashion that was somehow dead on with Eddie’s own vivid blue orbs. It was starting to become rather unnerving at how easily and directly Waylon’s gaze would settle to his, without any searching beforehand with his fingers or assistance. Maybe once every few days Waylon would get lucky and meet the mark just right but even then, there was little intent in his features.

 

Eddie assumed it was just his imagination as those brows furrowed in thought. “Eddie…” The voice drifted again, this time he never even noticed Waylon’s lips moving. He blinked a couple times and shifting in place, propping himself up on his elbows and causing Waylon to slide a little ways down to his hips. His tail rolled, uncoiling from the ball he had bunched himself up in to keep them both propped up comfortably, letting his body pool off to the side and slither around them. Waylon seemed unfazed by the change, leaning towards the Naga and gripping to his bicep once more. One arm snaking over to clutch at his opposite shoulder and catching around his neck to keep from tumbling over and off the pile.

 

“Ssssorry darling.” The Naga murmured as he boosted Waylon backup, curling his serpent form up just right to give him leverage. He paused in his movements as Waylon’s head lolled to the side, his hands changed to rest on both of Eddie’s shoulders as he leaned forward as if suddenly overcome with drowsiness. “Are you alright?” His brows furrowed with concern as he gave the human a gentle shake, feeling alarms ringing in the back of his mind. “Waylon?” He asked slowly.

 

There was a soft sound, it started out as whispers before petering out into a long hiss then suddenly a sharp pain breaking through the skin and scales on his shoulders and piercing the tougher layers of flesh. Eddie hissed and shoved the human away, feeling something long pull from his shoulder as Waylon’s body tumbled back to the cooler stone floor. It rested limp and sprawled out, no sign of movement as the Naga pulled his tail away, leaning forward hesitantly to check on the blind man. The soft hissing resumed before the body began to move in an unnatural way. He heard bones crunching and rearranging, saw the rise of the spine, arching to back breaking proportions before curving so deeply before the crack followed.

 

The body writhed and trembled on the ground, red smearing across the stony surface before Waylon’s head snapped up quickly, accented by a sharp crack. Wide white eyes staring him down as the human’s jaw opened, breaking the joints at the pivot and dropping lower, a snarl of fangs and blood pooling out of his mouth as he hissed. A long forked tongue extended to greet him as the blonde’s body dragged across the ground with broken joints, legs mangled and flesh ripped open around his face where skin could no longer hold as his jaws continued to extend as if to swallow him whole. “ **You did thissss to me!** ” He choked out, hands mutilated and twisted up into boney claws scraping across the stone work as the human dragged himself towards the Naga. The voice rising to an ethereal screech that was far from human. Those ghostly eyes locked on him with dead certainty.

 

“No, I- Darling!” The being lunged towards Eddie, catching his sides with the long boney claws. “Ssssstay back!” He hissed out, his tail snapping sharply, whipping the heavy appendage into the human and sending him hard against the wall opposite. Waylon’s body tensed upon impact then dropped down to the floor in a crumpled heap. Bones broken, jagged white shrapnel rising out of pale sheltered flesh. Dark red pooled out from the injures and lapped across the stonework like waves, rising high like tides threatening to drown the Naga. Waylon’s body sinking to the bottom as the torrent pulled him out. Eddie’s own body struggled with its weight against the waves, writhing to fight the pull and current as he was sunk deeper, the red ocean rising up and flooding the entire temple, drowning him in the darkness.

  


 

 

 

Eddie’s eyes snapped open as he took a deep breath, gasping for air to fill his lungs. His eyes blinking to adjust to his surroundings, his form tense as he dug his claws into the padded pillow nest beneath him, drawing the stuffing out of the cushions and scattering soft down feathers around the sleeping chamber. His head whipped around in searched, finding his human pet was sound asleep at his side, his head resting against one of the sections of Eddie’s extensive tail, the coils wrapped securely around Waylon to keep him close and wrapped up in a warm comforting hold. He gritted his teeth as he raised his hands to wipe the sweat from his forehead, trailing his claws through the long mane of black hair as he took the time to let his surroundings return.

 

He reached out carefully after a moment, gently hooking his claw under Waylon’s top lip and raising it to peek at the mundane set of teeth beneath. He breathed a relieved sigh when there was an absence of fangs. He let himself lie back and relax against the cushions, staring up at the infinite darkness of the room. His eyes gazing past it to stare up at the murals high above in the arching ceiling, depicting the gods and goddesses with their many forms. None of which was the serpent, for that was the form of evil incarnate. There was no room in such a holy place for a depiction of such a vile creature and yet here he was, trapped in the house of the gods with a reminder that he truly doesn’t belong here. Just as he is reminded every day of his atrocities as he slithers through the halls, working his way through the maze of statues, forever frozen in time.

 

He felt his bottom lip start to quiver, capturing it with a bite of his fangs, he broke skin and was reminded by the coppery taste of the vicious nightmare he had witnessed. Or, a more terrifying idea, an omen or prophecy. It was not uncommon for visions to befall those who sleep within these chambers. He had for many centuries and witnessed many come true but none had ever had such a profound effect on him as this. This was personal. It felt like a threat or a dreaded promise from the gods, further instating that they will continue to take everything that he has from him. Even these brief days of happiness he was spared and blessed to obtain with the human’s companionship.

 

His gaze turned towards Waylon once more as he reached out and caressed the tousled mess of golden locks drawing them away from the human’s face, to admire the restful expression. He continued to caress the smaller male until Waylon started to stir on his own. Eddie’s internal clock alerted him to the presence of morning and the sound of soft grumbling from Waylon’s stomach cemented that fact. He smiled softly, a sad twist in his expression that he was grateful Waylon would never be able to see as he unfurled the human from his coils and slithered away to retrieve the morning’s offerings at the temple entrance.

 

The villagers kept their distance for the last week or so as the Naga worked through his shedding time. With Waylon’s assistance, he managed to survive the ordeal with very little misery involved. He cleaned up the evidence and like always, burned it in the pyres at the entrance of the temple at night. The black smoke rising up from the mountains was a signal for the villagers that the temple was even more dangerous to come near but the mountain sides were safe during this time. The burning flesh of the creature had an effect on the area that kept predators away meaning safer foraging and working in the woods. When the smoke on the pyres fades, they were able to return to the temple to continue with their offerings, both to the altars of worship and to send supplies up for Waylon.

 

Eddie expected that the first of the offerings would await him and just as he thought, there were several baskets awaiting him. He felt the warmth of the sun’s rays peeking through the clouds for but a brief moment as he gathered up the baskets in his arms. When the offering are placed, the Naga will leave the empty baskets at the entrance for the villagers to return the next day and pick up. It was an unspoken deal set between the village and the Naga. A quiet request from the priesthood that remained in the small village shrine. Eddie never agreed to it outright but his acceptance of the offerings was enough for the villagers to continue the tradition. Now more so than ever with Waylon’s presence all the way up there.

 

The Naga made his way back through the maze of statues and sorted through the baskets. Leaving the appropriate ones outside of the prayer room and taking the supplies left for Waylon down to their sleeping chamber. As he slithered into the darkness, he was greeted by the drowsy smile of the blind man. He was sitting upright with his walking stick resting in his lap. “Good morning.” The male spoke up, listening to the soft rustling of the serpent’s scales across the cushions as he made his way towards the human. Resting the basket into Waylon’s lap, the human rifled through the contents and was pleased to find a bottle of fresh spiced juice in the pouch. He fiddled with the stopper that kept it closed before giving a soft whine of frustration. Eddie slithered around to coil back up around the human, watching as Waylon held the bottle up towards the empty space that Eddie had just been occupying, murmuring a plea for assistance. “Please.” The Naga breathed a sigh of relief and reached over his pet to pluck the bottle from hand and pulled the stopper out with ease, using a claw to pry it free. He gave it a curious sniff, ensuring the substances were safe for the human to consume before resting it back in Waylon’s hands for him too sip at. “Thank you Eddie.”

 

“Ccccertainly darling.” Eddie cooed, leaning down to leave a loving little peck on the male’s forehead and carding his claws gently through his hair. He admired the fearlessness of the human and how at ease he was in the den of a predator. It never ceased to surprise him. Waylon held the bottle back out to Eddie as the Naga put the stopper back in place so it wouldn’t spill on their nest and watched as Waylon rifled through the contents, seeming more alert after his drink. A soft pink flush resting on his cheeks as he felt around the wrapped goods. He hummed pleasantly as he came up with a favorite snack of his, something that a goat herder on the lower part of the mountain always sent up for the blind man with each run.

 

Eddie had come to find out that the man was the closest thing to a friend that Waylon had. Nobody else in the village wished to deal with the blind man so Waylon was always sent off to the goat herder to help in the fields. By help, it meant Waylon sat in the same exact spot all day long while the livestock lingered around him like some sort of focal point. They felt calm and content in the man’s presence and while Waylon remained stationary, the herder would tend to the younglings or the more adventurous members of the flock that wandered away. What Waylon didn’t divulge was that many of the villagers hoped that should a predator appear and come after the flock, that it would forgo the goats and eat the cripple instead. Waylon was uncertain if this was something his friend considered as well but he never really let it get to him, figuring that if he over thought every bad rumor or occurrence that he would simply spend his very short life fretting and fearing things he had no control over.

 

The blonde made a happy hum as he withdrew what the villagers considered a meat pie. It was common for them to bring such meals out to the pastures and Waylon delighted so much in it with its variations of flavors. There were a couple different kinds that the herder would make depending on the time of year and what was to offer. Waylon’s favorite involved lamb, cooked until tender and shredded by hand. It had packed and pan fried potatoes within and what made it even better was when they were fresh from the bread oven and piping hot, his friend would make the lightest brushing of honey across the top and it would add to the sweet and savory flavors of the meal. It was best when hot but the one in hand was still lukewarm. It was perfect as far as the blind man’s standards as he worked away at his special little treat.

 

Eddie watched quietly as the human delighted in the odd little pastry. It was never something he considered to be a delicacy back when he was human. It was considered peasant food, crude and unsophisticated. He was more accustomed to large banquet meals at every sitting with several courses interchanging throughout with true delicacies covering his table one platter after another. But that was a long time ago. Now he didn’t even eat. Some days he would when Waylon offered to share a bite of something he considered truly delicious but Eddie would leave the supplies for the human. After all, he needed it much more than the Naga did. Since being sent up as a sacrifice to the creature, the blind male had gained a pleasant amount of meat on his bones, no longer the thin gangly thing appearing about as frail and thin as the stick he relied upon to get around.

 

As Waylon finished up his breakfast, the naga handed him back the bottle of juice, holding the stopper between his claws as he wiped a bit of crumbs from the blonde’s cheek with a soft chuckle. He waited for Waylon to be done before returning the stopper to the bottle and the bottle back to the basket of supplies. Picking it up with his tail, he nudged it over to the far wall where the rest of the blonde’s belongings rested, what little there was. It was far enough out of the way but still close enough that if Waylon ever needed it, he could get it.

 

“Time for temple duty.” Waylon murmured as he picked up his walking stick and pushed himself up to his feet. He held his hand out towards Eddie as the Naga uncurled and accepted it in his massive claws, guiding him out of the darkness of the sleeping chambers and towards the halls. The soft patter of Waylon’s bare feet on the stone work sent chilling flashbacks through Eddie’s mind as the nightmare continued to torment him. The sound of his own tail slithering behind only added to the reminiscent horrors that plagued him still. His grip on Waylon’s hand tightened, drawing a soft intake of breath as the human paused to address the tension in the serpent’s form. “Are you alright Eddie?”

 

Eddie slowed down, his tail bunching up behind him as it slid across the smooth surface as he considered the inquiry. “I’m fine darling.” He reassured, leaning down to press a kiss to Waylon’s forehead, stroking his claw through the tousled messy locks atop the male’s head. Waylon quietly considered this, tilting his head towards the warm touch before giving a silent nod and continuing to the prayer room. Eddie scooped up the baskets of offerings, using his tail to scoot what he couldn’t hold along the floor. One hand still guiding the blind man towards the first of the altars. By now it was routine and Eddie knew by heart what exactly went on each altar but just for Waylon’s sake, he let the male call out each necessity for each altar. He would murmur soft greetings to the gods as they moved from one place to the next until all the offerings were present then they would spend the next half hour sitting in prayer.

 

Today Eddie wasn’t in the mood for chatting with the gods, choosing instead to watch over Waylon as he bowed his head and pressed his palms together in submission to their blessed deities. His lips moving slowly in formation of words with no sound coming from them. His mind jumping back to the blood curdling screech that filled his nightmares as his gaze watched the man’s lips part and his jaws rip open. He blinked furiously, his body tensing up as the vision faded back to reality. His tail curled around Waylon in a protective gesture as his eyes narrowed upon the altars, gazing around slowly with unease.

 

By the end of the ritual time, he was eager to usher Waylon out of the room, nearly forgetting the baskets on their way out. He deposited them at the entrance of the temple on their way to the bathing pools. He helped Waylon strip down out of his tunic and trousers as his tail gave him a boost up onto his back. Waylon held on tightly to Eddie’s shoulders as they sank down into the water, the Naga’s coils bunching up to offer support in the depths as they waded around the pools. The soft trickle and flow of it passing through was the natural source that constantly refreshed the pools and kept a warm current running through from deep in the mountain center. Eddie twisted around so he was lying on his back, floating on the surface with Waylon stretched out across his muscular form, arms crossed and head resting against his enlarged pecs. The water stirring, lapping over his scales, the crystal clear liquid flashing a deep dark red for the briefest of moments.

 

He jolted, nearly causing Waylon to tumble off of him and slip under the water with a startled cry. “Eddie!”

 

He was quick to catch the male, leaving a small scratch across his hip. Waylon hissed at the sharp pain and shuddered, drawing in a sharp breath as he pawed at the spot. “Darling!” He blurted, pulling Waylon closer to his chest as he slithered through the water towards the edge of the pool to sit him up on the ledge. His striking blue eyes furrowed with concern as he gently pulled Waylon’s hand away from the cut to inspect it. “I’m sssso sssssorry darling. I didn’t mean to.” He murmured as he reached out for something to wipe it clean, he found nothing nearby and leaned closer to lick the small droplets up, tongue lathing over the wound, letting his saliva settle into it. It drew another sharp hiss from Waylon as he squirmed, the coppery taste coating Eddie’s taste buds but he hummed softly, watching as the injury stopped bleeding, leaving a dark red line against the stark pale flesh. He breathed a soft sigh of relief.

 

“I am truly ssssorry.” He sighed, shaking his head slowly.

 

Waylon shivered as the droplets of water trailed down his spine and cooled as they reached a puddle around him. “Eddie? What is wrong? You can tell me anything, you know that.” He spoke softly, his tone sincere as he tilted his head to gaze towards the Naga, the effect was lacking as his wispy white eyes stared directly at the creature’s pecs.

 

The water gliding down over the ebony scales highlighting his form, the white splotches along his hide were the only disruption. His tail curled and bundled up anxiously in the water as he considered how to answer the small human. A million thoughts raced across his mind but the words that left his lips were the last he wanted to hear. “Darling, I-” He sighed, giving in to the fears that wound up his heart and raked him through the coals of worry. “I think you sssshould go.”

 

“Ah- alright. You need your space.” Waylon started, feeling a sudden weight sinking in his chest as he turned to find his clothing. The naga reached out with the tip of his tail, flicking the droplets of water off of it and snagging the fabric to nudge towards the male until the blonde’s fingers found them and started feeling them out to figure out which was which. “I can stay in the prayer chamber if you like.”

 

“No, Waylon. “ Eddie spoke more firmly, feeling the words burn along his throat as he forced them past his lips, the flashes of the vision jolting through his mind as he shook his head, trying to jostle the free. “I mean, you need to leave. You can’t sssstay here any longer.”

 

Waylon paused amidst getting dressed, his shirt only part way on as he clutched at the fabric, the breath leaving his chest. His heart started to race, nerves settling throughout his form but he didn’t say anything in protest. He gave an awkward nod of his head and hurried through the res to his clothes before turning to kneel, palms searching the ground for his stick, his features turning a darker more embarrassed shade of red as he wanted nothing more then to leave the room and be out of Eddie’s sight. The naga reached out to try and stop the blonde before retracting his claws and giving the stick a nudge to scrape across the ground. It was enough of a signal for Waylon to find it before he shuffled his way out of the room, small droplets racing down his face though Eddie couldn’t tell if they were shed from the smaller male or simply falling from his damp locks.

 

Waylon had taken shelter within the prayer chamber, sitting quietly until Eddie came to get him. His belongings were already resting at the entrance of the chamber and he was fully dressed, clutching his stick closely. The naga brought him food to ensure he would eat, before he was guided to the temple entrance to wait for the villagers in the morning. As the naga gazed at the blind male, he noticed he seemed more hunched over, clinging more tightly to his walking stick then he had ever done before. His head never lifted to bid the creature farewell, the naga coiled around him to keep him warm until dawn started to break. That was the signal for them to part ways, Eddie could only hope that whatever visions that befell him would fade out after Waylon’s departure. He listened as the voices of the villagers rose at the sight of their cripple companion, mixed reactions of worry and surprise that he was coming out of the temple in one piece and still breathing. They were hesitant to take him back to their village but in the end they all began their slow trek back down the mountain, leaving the Naga to return to the silence of his domain.


	4. Pay The Piper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waylon returns to his village.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So far I've indirectly hinted at a few other outlast characters in this chapter which i think should be pretty obvious once you think about it. 
> 
> Please leave a comment below of what you think about the newest chapter. ^.^ Thank you all for your gracious support and love. It continues to motivate me to keep pumping out content for you all and it's exciting to hear your responses and see you enjoying it. Thank you so so much!

The weather from the mountains changes easily, just as it did that day. The warmth of the sun faded out as the fog rolled through the ominous peaks before bringing the coming rain. It pelted the village below, running across the hills and flooding the creeks racing between their fields. It left the day long and disheartening as many of the people remained inside. This left Waylon with little else to do besides curl up under the lean-tos with the rest of the goats from the shepherds herds. The air was heavy and damp, the wind whipped through the shelter and left a chilling mist spraying across his body. He huddled up closer to the animals for warmth as they bleated and cried out anxiously with the rolling thunder up above.

 

The only solace came in the briefs moments when the storm would idle to a soft drizzle and the wind would die down. He’d hear the sounds of people scurrying about the village, trying to accomplish what little they could before it started back up again. The blacksmith’s hammers ringing loudly in the otherwise quiet landscape. As the day wore on, the shepherd left his tiny hut to check on his livestock, providing a bit of grain for them to feed on until they could return to the fields again. He brought a bucket of water and a bowl of warm rabbit stew for Waylon and helped the blind man sit up and eat. He used a damp cloth to clean him up, washing away the mud that smudged his face and hands from sleeping in the goat shed.

 

There wasn’t enough space in the shepherds hut otherwise he would offer the blind man a place in out of the rain and cold. No one else in the village desired to help him and so Waylon had little other choice besides to sleep with the beasts. The only positive side was that he would be kept warm by the many furry bodies surrounding him and he was safer than sitting out under the eaves or wandering the fields. Their interactions were quiet, settling into the presence of each other and enjoying the idle familiarity. Waylon had spent many years under the shepherd’s care like this. He and his family offered what they could to help, even after the shepherd lost his wife to childbirth and his young son to a winter illness, he still helped Waylon with what little he could. He was limited by his own resources, his hut was much smaller than the cottage on the hill that they used to dwell within, having burned down after a terrible storm, he made due with the old leather workers’ shop, converted back to a livable space.

 

Still, despite his struggles, the villagers never once offered help or assistance but were rife with vocal sentiment and pity. Some even considered the loss of his family and his home as the gods punishing him for ever taking Waylon into his care. They assumed Waylon’s lack of sight was a punishment for him from birth, believing that it meant his soul was bad and he wasn’t worthy of kindness or generosity. That he was just a waste of space and resources. The local doctor refused to see him when he was ailing after a very long and harsh rainy season. The people in the market would take from him what little he had, making him pay twice or three times as much for the same goods everyone else was purchasing, taking advantage of him, despite that what little he had, he had worked for doing what little he knew. He continued to struggle each and every day with his disability but the villagers didn’t think that was enough. They felt as if they were owed compensation simply by the inconvenience of his presence within their community.

 

When the time came and they were seeking out retribution when all other plans failed to rid the beast from their temples above, their gazes were set on a sacrifice and knew exactly who would be offered up. They feared their misfortunes were due to the altars in the temple going unattended and hoped that with the offering of a sacrificial lamb, or in this case, man, they would be spared. With Waylon’s return to the village, their fears were doubled, seeing this as a rejection of their offering or that the blind man had done something foul and the beast couldn’t bare to keep the cripple in his presence.

 

The mistreatment of the blind man had gotten worse, if that were even possible. As the days carried on and the rain ceased, Waylon returned to the fields with the shepherd as they tended to the flock. As per their usual routine, the shepherd would leave Waylon sitting in a specific place in the field and was able to wander the exterior of the flock as the goats gathered around the blind man to graze. Unlike what the villagers spoke of, he didn’t do this with the hopes that Waylon would be bait for wolves. He did it because the man was bonded with all of his flock, he had a very kind and gentle nature, it was a calming balm that soothed the restless livestock and it made them congregate to his presence.

 

Some days the shepherd had trouble getting his herd to obey him as they were more intent on following the blind man around. Often leading to loose livestock escaping their pastures to trot along behind him through town. The shepherd was even more grateful of the blind man’s presence when the spring kids were born. Waylon had been around the animals for so long that his sense of hearing was highly alert and aware of any problems with the others. If one wasn’t feeling well or was in distress, he knew immediately and he could tend to the babe or call for the shepherd by ringing the large copper bell that hung within the barn.

 

The shepherd was immensely grateful for Waylon’s help and if it wasn’t for the blind man relying on him for survival, he wasn’t very certain he himself would have survived the loss of his family. To him, Waylon was family. At least all the family he had left. He had been heart broken when the villagers made the decision to send Waylon to the temple, even more so after the young man didn’t make any sound of protest. Just like all the other injustices and abuse, Waylon accepted it with his head held high as if it were a honor to be led to the slaughter. The shepherd mourned the loss of his friend but on the day when he returned from the mountain, he felt true fear for the blonde like he had never experienced before. There was anger and distress among the villagers. They were furious that the blonde had returned, looking rather healthy and well kept no less. He made certain Waylon avoided the village since but that didn’t stop the venomous words from being spread around.

 

The day was warm enough, the sun shining through the mild cloud coverage and casting warm patches of golden light upon different points in the pasture. One of which Waylon had been resting in. There were two of the spring babes nestled up close to him on either side, their heads resting against his chest as a soft breeze danced across the vibrant grassy fields. The flock was dispersed about as the shepherd led the older of the herd down to the nearby creek for a drink, taking them in small manageable sections at a time. A lot of the older of the flock had trouble getting around and often wouldn’t go down to the edge without the shepherd close by. It left Waylon tending to the rest on his own.

 

He was unaware of the shadows that loomed over him or the footsteps that approached through the grass. He assumed it was either the other goats milling about to nuzzle at his hair or the mothers of the babies coming to urge them to nurse. His pale eyes opened when he heard a startled sound from the babes and felt them stumble away suddenly then the heavy pressing of a foot landing hard against his chest. He gasped, body jolting as pain exploded inside his chest. The foot retracted then came down once more upon him. The goats around dispersed, bleating in distress at the attackers. One of the older billy goats charged one of the men, catching him with its horns and stomping its hooves on the ground in warning as it backed right back up, prepared to defend him again.

 

The shepherd heard the distress and feared that wolves may have diverged from the woodlands but was even more shocked to see three different villagers, an older man with two younger twin boys attacking Waylon. “Stop!” He cried out as he raced towards them but was immediately shoved back to the ground upon his approach.

 

“Stay out of this!” One of the younger men growled out.

 

“This is the will of the gods.” The other interjected, grabbing the old billy goat by its horns when it rushed back towards him and slammed it down over to the ground where it kicked wildly and bleated in rage.

 

The older man pressed his foot down against Waylon’s throat, drawing choked off sounds from Waylon as he struggled to push the boot away, his feet kicking out wildly against the ground. “He was to sooth our misfortunes with his life, instead he consorted with that vile creature, growing fat off of our suffering.” The man cursed, retracting his foot from Waylon’s throat only to snatch the blind man up and hold his hand out to one of the men beside him. They withdrew a hunting knife from their waist and handed it over, watching as the elder man cut away what little clothing was keeping Waylon protected from the elements. His body, which had once been so skinny and malnourished was stronger and healthier looking. He had a little extra meat on his body, covering his rib cage which had once been so prominent in his torso but now smoothed out with the rest of his lithe frame.

 

The shepherd glared at the elder man as he cursed. “Does it rot your conscience to know a beast treats a man better than his own people do? Does that keep you awake at night, Father? A man of the gods should show mercy and charity, not cast aside the weak in favor of the self-righteous-”

 

“Don’t you preach to me the way of the gods, child!” There was a sharp bite in the priest’s words. “You know not the sacrifices we’ve had to make to survive their anger. It’s all that beast’s doing that we have to suffer this way.” Waylon was shaken amidst the priest’s rage before being thrown back to the ground. His walking stick was picked up and brought down with a hard crack over the blind man’s back when he attempted to pick himself up on all fours. He cried out, a sharp scream leaving his lips as he was forced back down to the ground.

 

His walking stick was snapped in half and thrown down to the ground. “He is the incarnation of evil.” The priest’s words were a sharp jab to Waylon’s chest as the holy man gestured towards the billy goat that made an attempt to protect the cripple. “His dominion aligns with those who defy the gods. These beasts of burden and the beast upon the mountain that defiles our once sacred and holy lands.” The priest spat down on Waylon’s bare back, a large dark wound already forming across his shoulders where the stick met skin. In some places it had started to give rise to small rivulets of blood where the flesh was frail and broken. He turned and started to return towards the village, gesturing for the twins to follow along behind him. The billy goat being thrown back hard, kicking its legs out startled before it got back up and stomped its hooves angrily but it didn’t dare go after the assailants. The rest of the flock made their way towards the shepherd and the blind man but kept a wary distance, now made skittish by the slightest sound or fast movements.

 

“Waylon?” The shepherd called out, rushing to his friend’s side with concern. The blind man didn’t move a muscle, his body limp against the ground. He reached out to touch the male’s shoulder to give a gentle nudge but paused, afraid to cause more pain. His actions were halted completely as the blonde’s torso expanded in a sharp intake of breath before trembling. His arms moving slowly to cover his head protectively, curling up on himself in the mud. The shepherd had watched the blind man take many abuses in his lifetime but never once had he shed tears over it. Not even when the villagers sent him to an anticipated death. But now, those tears fell freely down his face as he choked out a harsh sob, his body quaking with the force. It was enough to cause the shepherd pain, he could only imagine how it felt for Waylon. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.” The man urged with tender compassion, using the same tone of voice he often only reserved for the livestock.

 

Waylon was hesitant to move, wanting to just be left alone but he had little else to do. Sitting in the field alone would accomplish nothing but cause more trouble for the shepherd and he didn’t want to do that, not after the problems he’s already brought upon the man. He rubbed at his eyes to disband the falling tears and raised a hand out towards the shepherd to be helped up. The pain in his back only increased with the motion as he was drawn to his feet and it was hard to hold the blonde man up without touching his wounds or irritating them more. Eventually it was just something he had to endure until they returned to the small hut.

 

As the shepherd tended to Waylon’s injuries, placing salves across the wounds and a poultice of mint with bandages over top to reduce swelling, Waylon sat quietly with his sightless eyes staring blankly at the floor. There was considerable bruising around his throat and chest. He took a damp cloth and wiped away the muck and grime that had covered his body and clothed him in some older trousers and a worn out tunic. The sleeves were frayed and falling apart but it was enough to hold him over until they could procure him new attire.

 

Waylon was left to sleep in the shepherd’s bed while he went out and finished tending to his flock, checking on his billy goat to ensure he wasn’t harmed by the exchange and gathering up his flock. Luckily enough, when he brought Waylon back to the hut, the whole flock followed, curious after the injured blind man but now they were trampling around the building unnecessarily and needed to be herded back to their pen.

 

Waylon remained lying in the darkness with his thoughts, his arms folded beneath his chin for his head to rest again while he laid on his belly. His mind drifting towards the mountains and the temple, wondering how the Naga was doing and if he even wondered what became of him. He worried that he was lonely, slithering through the long endless corridors, staring at the army of statues each and every day that never really made it far into the temple like some sort of warning to keep him from leaving. It saddened Waylon to think about, considering how long Eddie has remained up there and how the people outside view him. His mind drifted as the herbal remedies worked away his pain and allowed him a bit of relief in rest, clinging to a single thought as he gave in. _‘If only they knew the real you.’_


	5. Living on a Prayer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie is faced with solitude.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fanart in the beginning of this piece is by @patchworkweddingdress on tumblr for the cuddly bath scene from chapter 3. Thank you so much for this piece. It is fantastic and adorable!
> 
> Just a little warning as this chapter is in Eddie's pov and can get a little heartbreaking so just encase, you might want to keep the tissues on standby. Please leave a comment down below of what you think. Thank you all for your support and contributions! This fic was so much fun to write and I look forward to the next few chapters! Thank you!

 

 

With the foreboding silence settling over the temple, the nightmares didn't cease. The creature found no solace in the returned loneliness as the gods refused him that single allowance. He spent most of his time cooped up within the sleeping chamber, tormented by visions and violence. Memories of his past victims had twisted and churned into terrifying realities centered around the small blind male. Each time far worse than the last.

 

Visions of Waylon body, twisted and mangled up like a deer in the mouth of a lion, being dragged around by the naga’s own massive tail, coiled crudely around his torso. His ribs cracked and protruding like broken glass through his slender frame, tearing through the canvas of pristine flesh that the naga once adored like the finest ivory. The shaggy golden locks that encircled his head like a halo of light was dampened and tainted by crimson bleeding through a cracked skull. He couldn’t control himself as he slumped the rag doll form closer as talon’s dragged across the skin, gentle at first. A caring caress to his cheek as if the motion would awaken the lifeless body and draw it from its desperate slumber. Before trailing slowly down to his neck and then to his chest, the rags of his tunic were nothing more then fibrous shreds dangling from his limbs, heavy and soaked through, stained a permanent red.

 

His claws stopped, pressing against the place in which his heart resided, no longer offering a sound to this cruel and cold world. Adding to the deafening silence of the temple surrounding. Eddie let out a hiss as his talons dug into the flesh, ripping it away to reveal the heart, nestled snug within its chambers and the little bits of muscle and fragile bone that defended it from predators like him. He pried it out with a sickening amount of care and brought it up to his lips, the forked tongue lathing over it before his maw parted, jaws breaking free from their joints to swallow it whole. The blood was still warm, dripping down his lips and coating his fangs as he lurched forward. His tail slinging the lifeless body back towards the bathing pools, watching it tumble over and fall into the watery depths, tainting the purity of the waters until they ran red with his own primal nature.

 

Other visions were more surreal, of Eddie leaving the safety of the sleeping chamber to the sounds of Waylon’s voice. Hearing it call out to him from the entrance. The soft and sweet sounds of the blind man as he struggled to make it through the maze of statues, something that Eddie was an expert in despite the additional fifteen or so feet of tail that followed. As he neared the entrance of the temple, Waylon’s words faded out slowly to silence. He feared the blind man may be leaving, assuming the naga didn’t want anything to do with him as he was unanswered. Eddie lurched towards the opening and out into the fading light of evening. The first tendrils of night already grappling with the last shreds of sunlight on the horizon, dampening it to the pale ambiance. The soft flickering of crickets chirping nearby was the only other sound as he eased his way down the stone steps to glance around at the worn and rocky path leading down the mountain. “Darling?” He called out, searching for any sign of his companion, knowing he couldn’t have gone far with his disability.

 

As he made his way a little bit down the path, daring to take a peek with hopes that he could still see him. With night fading quickly, it was unsafe for the blonde to be out and about with so many predators lurking amidst the rocky outcroppings and thick foliage. His scales scraped across the rougher ground, a sharp contrast to the smooth granite stonework he had spent the last couple centuries occupying. It felt foreign to his body. The wind picked up, the trees shuddered, branches breaking and bowing as a storm rose on the other side of the mountains. Yet another of the many spring monsoons to pelt the region. As the wind started to die down, it carried with it a brief impression that flared his nostrils and had his eyes wide and searching. His blue eyed gaze slanted as he twisted on the rocky earth, his tail slipping and dragging across the loose stonework, stirred up by his immense weight. He bent forward and dug his talons into the earth and dragged himself forward with a bit more momentum.

 

Closing in on the line of trees that neared the temple entrance, he saw something unusual peeking out between the bushes. A small wisp of gold shifted by the breeze slipping between the tree trunks. As he neared it was a crumpled heap, lying hunched against the rough bark exterior and hung up on one of the broken branches. There was blood dripping down his neck and the broken pieces of his walking stick laid shattered at his feet, stained red at the ends. The golden curls were matted up at the back and damp, his face a dark smattering of bruising with a split lip and brow on the same side. “Waylon!” He blurted, closing the space between them as he raised the blind man’s head carefully, tensing as the warmth spilled over his hands. He drew them back to see the blood coating his talons, a gentle shifting of his head and Eddie could spy the large indentation from where one of the bits of his walking stick had made contact. His body was covered in these same lesions and stripes delivered by a blow from the wooden piece.

 

He cursed and pressed his head against Waylon’s chest, feeling the soft flutter within but it was fading quickly. He ripped pieces of fabric from the blonde’s clothing to try and stem the flow but there was little he could do. His knowledge was absent on this situation. As he tilted his head up in distress, his eyes rested on a single word carved deep into the bark above Waylon’s head.

 

**BLASPHEMER**

 

He turned his gaze back down to Waylon, feeling his blood start to boil with half a mind to go down to the village and decimate them all. A million different ideas crossed his mind in the expanse of a few seconds before he was drawn from his thoughts by a single frail voice, murmuring his name like a prayer to the gods. _“Eddie..”_

 

“I’m here darling!” Eddie blurted before toning down his voice and caressing his face gingerly. He placed a careful kiss to Waylon’s forehead, gingerly stroking his fingers through the male’s bangs to gaze into the glazed over wispy sphere. “I’m right here.” He cooed, pulling Waylon away from the tree and into his arms so he would feel the warmth and comfort of another being amidst his last few moments.

 

“I was so scared…” Waylon started, his words were soft and fading fast. His voice was a rasp of emotion as tears streamed down his cheeks. “..they were going to hurt you.” He raised a hand to touch Eddie’s chest, two of his fingers were broken and his palm looked deformed and bruised badly, swelling up in places where bones were broken, possibly as he attempted to protect himself. Or maybe they had done it separately to torture him. Eddie would never know. He felt his heart wrench up painfully as that malformed hand touched so carefully against his chest, rising up slowly to his shoulders and tracing the lines of his scaly silhouette along his neck until it came to rest on the Naga’s cheek. “I couldn’t...let them...hurt you.” Waylon whispered, his bottom lip quivering as he fought for control, holding on as long as he possibly could to spare a moment more with the Naga.

 

“Darli-” Eddie was about to protest. To tell Waylon that he shouldn’t have. That nothing could ever truly harm him. But he stopped himself, because for once in his life, Waylon was able to do something for somebody else and he had no right to take that accomplishment away from him. It burned as he forced the words past his lips, pressing them against Waylon’s forehead affectionately as he murmured soft praise. “You did good. You did really good Darling.” He took a shaky breath, his voice breaking before he corrected it to continue. “You ssssaved me. I’m sssso proud of you Waylon.”

 

Waylon’s lips drew up into a weak smile, trembling lightly with the effort to keep it going. His eyelids sliding shut as he nods slowly. Lips parting to speak but nothing more comes out. A stifled attempt at breath catches in his throat, Eddie can heart Waylon’s heart go silent and watches as the blonde struggles to hold on in this world before his strength gives out. His head grows heavy against the Naga’s arm, the hand falls back to rest on the earth as another soul passes over to the underworld. Yet, he clings to the lifeless form, drawing in what little warmth remained even long after he’s gone cold. In a cruel twist, no tears can fall from the Naga’s eyes. He is robbed of his right to mourn properly but the sound that leaves his chest in distress is enough to make the mountains quake and the wind cower in its tracks. Even the coming thunder could not rival his anguish and the lightning dared shed light on this atrocity, peeking through shadows as if to give the Gods the front rows seats at his eternal misery that they’ve craved for.

  
  


Eddie awoke from the latest vision with an ache that coursed through his chest. A pain of mourning and grief like none other he had ever felt before in his life. His talons pressed against his rib cage, drawing softly across his side to rest his palm over his heart, feeling the heavy thump within and the pain that followed each forlorn beat. He breathed heavily, his torso expanding in quick huffs before settling once more, only to repeat the process. His eyes scanning over the empty space beside him where the lithe male’s form had occupied. The faint scent that once nestled into the soft fabrics had nearly completely faded, now only wisps of it remained to haunt him. He forced himself up with a growl, uncoiling from the knotted ball he wound his tail into and slithered out of the room with half hearted grace. His shoulder catching the door frame to lean against momentarily, the soft chill of the air hitting him before he pressed his scales against the colder stonework but even that couldn’t cool the heat that enraged his body.

 

He made his way to the bathing pools and sunk down into the colder water of a smaller pool. He hissed out slowly as he lowered himself until he was completely submerged beneath the surface and coiled all of his tail up into the base. He chose to remain under until his lungs started to burn from holding his breath and soon he released it, letting bubbles rise up to the surface and break. His tail unfurled as his body slowly started to rise back up to the surface, floating face down for several minutes, motionless before his torso expanded and he started to move. Eddie sank back to sit on the steps with a downcast look, staring at the water with a note of disappointment. He sighed and pulled himself up out of the pool to dry off and slither down the halls.

 

As he passed the entryway, he stopped to gaze over the myriad of statues that waited to greet any who dared enter this accursed place. The soft flow of air swirled through, the fresh morning dew lingering on the breeze before it faded away. Simply out of habit, the Naga made his way to the entrance, the faint morning light shedding across the base steps of the temple. The mountains were surprisingly silent for once. The pyres were freshly fueled with wedges of wood, chopped and quarters and carried up by a mule. The baskets of offerings rested in the shade offered by the entryway columns. There was much less in the pile then before but he dragged them in out of habit and carried them towards the prayer chamber.

 

He had nothing to say to the gods today, feeling the silence capture his tongue as he went from one altar to the next, his thoughts echoing the words the blind man spoke of each, placing the designated offering and performing the gestures to alert the deity to the presence before moving on. Once the baskets were empty, he found himself resting before the main altar, his tail curled around himself, his eyes glancing over at the empty place at his side. He reached out, pressing his claws against the stonework, producing a soft scraping sound as he pushed his palm flat on the space, feeling the area where the male had occupied. He was possibly the most holy presence this temple had ever been blessed to house, at least in Eddie’s opinion.

 

He closed his eyes and released a forlorn sigh before withdrawing his hand to rest in his lap. His eyes opening as he gazed up at the statues depicting the so called revered gods. The almighty and powerful, so easily scorned by the words of weak little mortals. It was pathetic. “Are you happy now?” He spoke to them as if he were addressing a person beside him. “Of coursssse you’re not. You’ve taken everything away from me, including my right to end thisss usssselesssss life.” He reached up and carded his fingers through his damp locks, tilting his head down as they fell into his face only to be corralled back once more. “What more could you posssssibly want?” He murmured before falling silent once more.

 

There was an ominous presence that settled within the room. The curling of fog slowly making its way across the stone work and lapping at his coiled tail. He jolted, feeling something at his back. His eyes widened as he turned around and what used to be the temple prayer room was now an open grassy field, the fog of the morning still clinging to it as the golden rays of light cast down over the mountains to warm the damp earth. A familiar figure sat upon a solitary rock in the field, far too large and dug in for the farmers to remove and so it became a focal point for the goat herder to keep his flock near. The lithe frame of the blind man was hunched over, listening to the soft chirping of the birds as the goats grazed quietly. His body was wrapped in nothing more then rags far too big for his tiny frame.

 

He had patches and bandaging peeking up from underneath. The swelling and bruising on his back was plain for all to see. The dark angry purple coloring glaring down any who approached. His hands were wrapped, one of which trailed all the way up his forearm, the other covered small cuts and injuries on his fingers for his other hand. His feet were wrapped to ward off the chill of the earth as he drew his knees up to his chest. They were scraped and raw from repetitive falling with quite a bit of force. His cheek had a large sickly yellow splotch of older bruising resting just beneath the skin. His walking stick was absent, replaced with a week little twig he had picked up somewhere along the way, nowhere near tall enough for his size but long enough to feel the ground before him.

 

The vision changed to the sound of voices murmuring in the background. Whispers entering his thoughts, hatred and anger, contempt and malice, a sickening desire to cause harm. Feelings Eddie had been too comfortable with harboring once long ago, now it made his stomach roll with unease. With each of these whispers, there were sharp biting words, slandering and crude labels all aimed towards a single silhouette far too familiar to the Naga. He gritted his teeth, swallowing hard as he saw the three men at the center of this rage that engulfed the village. Men who claim to serve the gods, stirring up storms to ruffle the trees.

 

As the vision started to fade, he was given a brief return to the blind man. He watched him stroke his fingers through the soft fur of a spring babe as it cried for his attention. He hummed softly to the little creature as his thoughts danced around desires. Eddie could feel himself become a presence within the other’s mind. There was no image to dictate his appearance, instead it was a bundling of thoughts and feelings. His name being murmured into darkness and carrying warmth and kindness. There was an awareness of danger but the formidable claws and fangs represented protection, safety and security in the blind man’s perspective. What many feared, Waylon found endearing or unique. He saw beauty in the way Eddie could curl him up so tightly every night with a strength that could crush stone with ease but with enough care so that Waylon never had to be afraid. There was a last fleeting whisper of the Naga’s name from Waylon’s lips before it faded, leaving Eddie sitting alone in silence within the temple.

 

His eyes darted towards the altar’s around him with confusion and questions that he knew would not be answered. At least, not in the way he wanted them to be.. He looked back to the place Waylon had been as he rolled the thoughts over in his mind. The echoes of what Waylon was feeling contrasting with the negativity that filled the village. “It’sss not ssssafe for him down there.” He murmured. “I need to- no, I can’t…” Eddie muttered, arguing with himself as he fought back and forth over the actions he needed to take, or couldn’t take. If he goes down there, he risks killing everyone in the village. If he does that, he feared Waylon’s image of him would change and he didn’t want that to happen. On the other hand, he couldn’t sit by as the male was harmed. Then again… “How am I to know thissss isssn’t another one of your trickssss?” Eddie barked out towards the statues. “Another lie you wissshhhh to torment me with?”

 

There was a gust of air that burst through the room, putting out the sconces that lined the walls and shrouding it in darkness before they slowly started to return, small flames reigniting to be bigger and back to their illustrious blaze. It was the sign that Eddie needed to be certain.


	6. Home Is Where The Heart Is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Divine Intervention ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is a little bit shorter then the others so I hope you guys don't mind too much. There are still a few more to follow to help wrap up the rest of the story. Possibly two more at least. Maybe more. We'll see. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for the support and comments so far as well as the art pieces for the story. I am so grateful for it all. 
> 
> Please leave a comment below to let me know what you think! Enjoy!

The herd wandered idly around the field, grazing at different spots while the shepherd walked the perimeter. His gaze drifting to pick out the blind man lying in the grass with the two young babes on either side of him. Their lips parting to provide soft tugs on his shaggy blonde locks, nuzzled around to draw light laughter from his chest. He would praise them with gentle touches, rubbing his palm over their heads and between their droopy ears, gaining soft grunts of happiness from them. There were fresh bandages on Waylon’s body from his walk through the market that morning. One of the villagers tripped him as he passed, trailing along behind the shepherd on their usual route. 

 

Waylon would grip his friend’s shoulder to guide him along the way but it still left him vulnerable to attacks. Today he was tripped, and shoved backwards before the shepherd could intervene. Someone proceeded to dump a bucket of well water on him, chilling him to the bone and soaking him completely through. It was troublesome, requiring them to return to the house to change out his clothing and dry off as well as exchange for completely new bandages that weren’t tarnished, something the shepherd was in short supply of. 

 

The night before his front door had been smeared with blood, presumably that of a dead chicken or maybe even a rabbit. It was yet another warning or more of a promise from their harassers that they were not going to stop. It was inevitable and so they did little but brush it off and keep moving on with their routine, making allowances for any upsets. He admired how well Waylon was taking it all, the toll of being the most hated person in the village would have crushed the shepherd as is and it was keeping him awake late at night, fearing for the both of their lives.

 

He sighed, skirting his fingers through dark chocolate hair and drawing it back to fix it up into a neat tie before ushering the rest of his flock in towards the pens. With the afternoon nearly over, he wanted to get the rest slowly heading back before evening came too close. As they worked their way over, Waylon shifted in the grass and sat up, his head turning in the direction of the village with a peculiar look of concentration on his face. His sightless eyes gazing into the distance and drawing the shepherd to worry. A moment more and there were screams and fast movement darting around the streets, the dark silhouettes could barely be made out by the shepherd. “Something’s wrong.” Waylon was on his feet before the shepherd could move, drawing the flock to follow him in the direction. The animals bleated in alarm and swarmed the blind man protectively. The elder billy goat brushing up against his thigh and offering its horns to steer the male towards the direction, guiding him past any obstacles that may trip him up. 

 

The shepherd could only follow helplessly as his flock and his friend were off ahead of him. As they entered the village, there were screams from the market and the sound of people running. Horses were spooked, causing a raucous and dragging the wagons through in a sudden start, the oxen near the blacksmith’s mill ceased their work as well and started a fuss of crying out. Across the market square, the shepherd could spot the tall serpentine form trailing through the village. The sleek black scales that covered the body were broken up by the white splotches across the back in an unsettling pattern. The fifteen or so feet of tail coiled up, the torso of a man rising to seek out the surroundings. A long forked tongue slipping out to taste at the air. 

 

His scales seemed to contract and expand, sensing the movement around him. His long talons would dig into the earth or the siding of buildings as he passed, his tail wrapping around the well and wooden posts rising up, using them like focusing points to magnify the vibrations in the earth. His talons digging in deep as he lowered himself to the ground and slithered forward, body weaving back and forth as his tongue worked the air. The strangest part of all was the slip of fabric that was tied around the creature’s eyes, preventing him from really seeing. His head would tilt from side to side as he scoured the voices to find the one he desired the most. Some of them sent ripples throughout his mind, echoes of sharp words calling out the blind man and cursing him to the heavens. 

 

The priest and his devoted followers rushed out of the shrine to see what the trouble was, freezing in their tracks as they curse loudly, some are too afraid to speak lest the beast hear them. The priest doesn’t hold his tongue, looking in the direction of the blind man, he spies the source of their misery. “You!” He snarled at Waylon, turning away from the creature that is currently coiled around their well looking on the verge of striking. His feet stomp across the muddy terrain through the chaos to grasp at Waylon’s tunic and drag him forward. The flock of goats disperse in a fright, the billy goat began to stomp its hooves in warning but the shepherd whistles for the to come back to him. He repeats the sound several times until his flock give in and turn away but linger nearby with their caretaker. 

 

“You brought this demon upon us!” The priest spit in the blonde’s face, his words were venom on his tongue, barking at Waylon with biting words as he shook him roughly. “I guess I should have sacrificed you myself. The gods are angry.” The priest held out his hand to his followers, the same pair of twins standing beside him, split between watching the blind serpent and the blind man. They provided the knife from before, placing the handle into the priest’s grasp. 

 

There was a low snarl that rumbled through the air, riding along with the coming of thunder that filled the sky. Just another storm rolling in with the season, perfectly times as the Naga picked up the scent he was looking for. His lips parted to flash his long fangs, jaws coming unhinged as he launched himself forward towards the priest, his talon digging in deep as the heavy body of muscle worked like a spring with enough momentum. He was looming over the priest before the twins could even blink, their eyes widening in disbelief as they turned and fled from the beast. “You’re right.” Eddie hissed, the low growl was a formidable sound the resonated within his chest. If they wanted a monster, they were going to see a monster. “The godssss are angry.” His claws latched onto the priest’s shoulders, causing him to release the blind man and turn quickly, slashing wildly at the Naga’s scaly torso. He hissed in pain but it did little to deter him as he gripped the priest harder and shoved him back into the ground. 

 

Several farmers came rushing to his aid to stop the beast from devouring him but Eddie’s massive tail flicked hard, knocking them back to the ground and causing them to scurry off. A lucky hit had a pitchfork buried deep into his hide. He cried out, his grip tightening enough to cause the priest’s shoulder to crack. A deafening scream left his chest as he writhed beneath the beast. Eddie flicked his tail around, smashing into wagons and barrels until the pitchfork was forced out, falling to the ground with a pitiful clink. “You are all blassssphemersss.” He swiveled, applying more pressure to the priest’s torso and forcing more of his screams to fill the air. “Divine punisssshhhhment sssshhhhall befall you.” As he was speaking, there was a gurgling sound within the well, a sickly wail like some form of phantom rising before dozens of black snakes sharing the same patterns as Eddie slithered out and dispersed around the village. “Sssstarting with the falssssee prophet.”

 

One of the snakes made its way across the expanse towards the the priest, coiling around his leg before sinking its fangs into the flesh of his calve. He cried out, feeling the venom pumped into his body. A toxin derived by the gods as the serpent melted into his skin, leaving the appearance of a snake tattoo matching the exact viper that had been present. The priest’s eyes started to change, the prominent coloring that provided him his sight faded out until nothing but sickly milky orbs remained robbing him of that which he abused so much. All around the village there were screams as the rest of the priest’s most devoted, the twins included, were attacked by these snakes. Some gained the serpent markings around their arms or waist, some on their hands and some around their necks. Wherever the vipers could reach and sink their fangs in, robbing them all of their vision and casting them to the same lowly status as outcasts and blasphemers that they labeled Waylon as. 

 

The shepherd watched, wary as the snakes slithered past to reach the rest, holding completely still until they were clear and fearing that they may attack his flock. His gaze flitted from them towards Eddie who reluctantly relinquished his hold on the priest who was now paralyzed in the eternal darkness Waylon had to face every single day. His tongue flickered out as he swiveled to find Waylon’s familiar scent. His body lowered to the ground, talons digging in to the soft earth until he was looming over the male. “Darling?” Eddie murmured, drawing a soft inhale from the blonde’s chest. 

 

Eddie could hear Waylon’s heart beating quickly, could sense his nervousness before a quiet voice met the air. “Eddie?” Waylon’s hands rose slowly, feeling for the Naga and finding the warmth that radiated from his body before any other part, soon his fingers rested on Eddie’s shoulder and neck. The naga urged it up a little higher so they were cupping his face affectionately. A deep pur rumbled in his chest as he nuzzled Waylon’s wrist, his tongue flickering out to run along the inside of his forearm, tasting his presence. 

 

Eddie wasted little time as he gathered the male up into his arms, his tail curling around them with the same powerful grace, gently caressing the human in a protective hold. “I am ssssooo sssssorry I ssssent you away.” He whispered into Waylon’s ear, his strong arms cradling him close as he sighed. “I wasssss afraid.” He continued. “That you’d be lossssst to me if you sssstayed. That the godssss would take you away from me. I wasssss sssssuch a fool.”

 

“Eddie…”Waylon trailed a bit, trying to find the words to speak. Everything was so sudden, his appearance in the village and the raucous that was caused. Now the naga apologizing to him. Waylon was nervous and happy and excited and confused all at once. There were so many more emotions running amok inside him that he couldn’t decipher. He had so many thoughts racing through his mind that he found it hard to make sense of which he wished to ask first. Instead, he went with something far simpler and the most honest of all his feelings. “I missed you so much.” He blurted, snaking his arms around Eddie’s neck, feeling his way around as he held him in return. “I feared I had wronged you in some way that I could never atone for. I prayed for guidance every night and received hope every morning that I may be able to atone for my mistakes and achieve forgiveness.”

 

“Oh, darling. You’ve done nothing wrong.” He rubbed his cheek against Waylon’s shaggy blonde locks. “I’m the one that needssss to beg for your forgivenessss. I sssshould never have abandoned you like that. You could do no wrong darling. You’re perfect in every way.” His lips pulled up into a smile as he purred. “For oncccee the godsss were doing ssssomething right when they made you.”

 

There was a harsh sound of someone clearing their throat, drawing both Waylon and Eddie’s attention in the direction of the interruption. The shepherd was looking around warily at the other villagers who were peering out of their homes and businesses, staring at the creature that had barged into their village and cursed several prominent members of their community. “My apologies Waylon, but the villagers are terrified and they may start attacking again.” The shepherd warned, keeping a respectful distance from the naga. 

 

“Oh, of course. Thank you Miles.” Waylon nodded, turning his gaze towards Eddie once more as he explained. “Eddie, this is that friend I told you about that's been taking care of me.” Eddie gave a nod of understanding, offering a sharp toothed smile of appreciation towards the male before he returned to nuzzling at Waylon’s neck and flicking his tongue out, drawing soft sounds from the blind man. “Eddie…” Waylon gave an embarrassed laugh as he squirmed a bit. “We should be heading home.” He stated, raising his hand up to cup at Eddie’s cheek, rubbing his palm across the soft skin. “If you’ll have me, that is.” 

 

“Ah! Of courssse darling.” Eddie purred, showing even more unbridled affection which was a bewildering sight for the villagers to view. The naga cuddling the village cripple like a child does a small doll. He uncoiled gently, his tail thumping against the ground as he shifted so Waylon could clamber around and rest on his back. His arms slipping around to their secure hold around Eddie’s neck before the naga started to slither his way back out of the village, following the scent trails from the way he came. Once he made it a certain ways up the mountain and was sure they were alone, he was able to remove his blindfold and travel the rest of the way with his own two eyes, stopping for a few moment to ensure Waylon was alright before continuing the rest of the way up to their home. 


	7. The Ties That Bind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut ahead!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The featured fanart piece in the beginning of the story is by @patchworkweddingdress on tumblr. It is a beautiful piece of Waylon and Eddie's reunion in the previous chapter. Thank you so much!
> 
> Please leave comments below on what you think about the chapter and stay tuned for more.

 

 

 

 

 

 

They had spent hours, tightly wound up into a bundle of limbs and tail, curled amidst all of the pillows that padded their sleeping chamber. After a quick dip in the healing pools, Waylon’s injuries were no longer a worry and Eddie could love on him without fear of causing further harm or damage to the smaller human. He nuzzled at the blind male for hours, wrapping up tightly around him but not enough to cause harm, just a comfortable firm hold that eased Waylon’s fears and Eddie’s own that the male may be gone when he’d wake from his soft doze. His nostrils flaring, inhaling deeply the scent of his beloved human, so enamored he was that he ended up rutting up around him. His tail curling up and coiling in pitiful attempts to further his feelings which he was far too embarrassed to admit and hoped the human wouldn’t notice. That is until the scent started to rise. A strong sweetened scent that was unlike anything he could compare it too and it was heavy in the air like static before a storm.

 

He wiggled around to compensate for the odd sensations that followed, making him restless as his tails squirmed and moved around Waylon, soon drawing a soft inquiry from the sleepy blonde. “Eddie? What are you doing?”

 

The naga’s skin heated up as he shifted, scales expanding and then soon contracting with sensitivity as he wiggled around the question, trying to find a proper way to explain what exactly was happening. He had never experience this before in this form but long ago, when he was human and held a harem of men and women eager for his bed, this sensation was far too familiar. He would assume he was a bit rusty though given the centuries and incredibly pent up. He sighed, biting his lip in contemplation. “Um, nothing to worry too much about darling.” He reassured, but Waylon shifted what little bit he could in the massive coils as the tail had wrapped around a good two thirds of his body leaving his shoulders, one arm and head free of the confines. Raising the one hand that was free, he pressed it to Eddie’s body, moving it up along the naga’s torso and rested it against the place just above his heart before shaking his head.

 

“You’re lying. Tell me the truth.” He stated firmly. A demand instead of a simple request, worry lining his voice as pale wispy eyes furrowed with concern towards the creature. “Your heart is racing. Your scales are moving oddly, there’s an odd scent in the air and your body temperature is starting to make even me sweat.” He pointed out. “There’s also this.” Waylon made his final point by moving his hand down to where a bump had formed beneath the scales, pressing up against his hip with every slow back and forth movement of the coils. He gave it a firm squeeze that had Eddie’s head tipped back and a deep rumble resonating in his chest. The naga’s tail rose up, grinding that anomaly up against Waylon’s palm in an odd fashion as he writhed, seeming to come undone from that simple addition of pressure.

 

“I-” He groaned as Waylon continued the motion of his palm, making the naga buck and roll, their tangle of bodies tumbling over across the bedding until Eddie was leaning over Waylon, his arms posting his body to sit up but his hips dipped and grinding still. Waylon’s lips curled into a sly smile as he continued the motion. “Sssssly minxxx.” Eddie cursed, knowing well what Waylon’s intentions were.

 

Waylon, despite his disability, was not the innocent little lamb everyone assumed him to be. He knew the natural way of life, including the birds and the bees. For gods’ sake, he lived in the goat shed. He helped Miles when the spring babes were born meaning he was also present for when they were conceived. If there was anything he was more familiar with then anything else, it was the primal ways of animals. To him, humans and even Naga, weren’t that far different in that aspect. Of course, Waylon has never done the dirty himself. Even with his own two hands. Mostly because he was never left alone long enough to do it and often feared being caught. The other part was he was far too embarrassed to admit he’s had such salacious thoughts.

 

“I’ve never done thissss before.” Eddie hissed out as he flicked his tongue across Waylon’s cheek, breathing a bit heavier with every press of Waylon’s hand, urging him into further desperation. “In thissss form. I don’t know how…” He trailed off, his own embarrassment curling in the base of this throat and making it hard for him to speak. They’ve been through so much pain and hardship these last few months and here he was getting all shy and choked up over something so personal and primal.

 

“It’s alright Eddie.” Waylon reassured, his hand drawing its way back up to caress the naga’s cheek. He rubbed his palm across his jawbone and up to card through the thick dark mane of long raven hair barely contained by the silken ties binding them. “I want you to take me. Make me yours. I don’t ever want to spend another day without you by my side.”

 

“Darling…” Eddie’s voice trailed off before a deep rumble resonated in his chest. His coils tightening around Waylon as the naga rubbed his cheek up against Waylon’s affectionately. His long forked tongue flicking out and tasting over his ear and jaw, soon peppering kisses along his soft ivory skin. His talons rolling through the soft halo of golden locks as he nuzzled at the male, working his way over until their lips met. Waylon parted them, licking at Eddie’s fangs to invite him in. The naga obliged as his long tongue curled and mingled with the human’s, tasting him on a far more personal level that had the naga bristling with immense excitement. He purred against the male as he drew away, a small string of saliva linking their tongues before parting completely. “Issss it alright if I….? Can I, um…” Eddie’s hand moved lower to grope at the male’s rear accentuating his inquiry with a bit of nerves.

 

Waylon’s lips drew back into a grin as he nodded. His words failing to reach his lips as he took a second to catch his breath. Eddie took the initiative and peeled away the tunic and trousers that separated their bodies, drawing the fabric of the rougher material lower to reveal the human’s hard shaft peeking up to greet him. “Hmmmm. It’ssss asssss perfect assss I imagined darling.” He purred as he caressed the considerably smaller member, marveling at its adorable size and the pink hue it was taking on with a very valiant effort to harden up and stand at attention just for him. His coils relaxed, tangling up loosely around Waylon’s torso and moving to give the blonde something to rest his head against. The tip of his tail curling around his arm, providing Waylon something to grasp at as Eddie lowered his mouth, parting his lips to let his tongue unfurl and flick over the head, leaving a few droplets of saliva across the top before he did so again. Waylon’s breath caught, sucked in sharply with an abrupt inhale as he squirmed. “Let me hear your voiccccee darling.” Eddie crooned.

 

Waylon’s face took on a pink flush that nearly resembled the one below his waist as the Naga’s tongue continued its diligent work. Moving around and coating his length with his saliva. Drawing soft mewls and moans from the male’s lips that only excited the naga further. He could feel the bulge beneath his scales started to strain until there was a soft sound like a sigh as a pair of shafts protruded. They were solid black with the same blueish tint that glistened in just the right light. He shivered, dark blue eyes glancing down at himself with a conflicting gaze of embarrassment and surprise.

 

“Eddie!” Waylon cried out, squirming a bit as the naga had him worked up considerably. His fingers clutching at Eddie’s tail tightly as his back arched, causing his hips to rut up into the long tongue teasing at his slit and sensitive head.

 

“Here, darling.” Eddie offered, his tail curling around Waylon to readjust their bodies. He switched places with Waylon so he was lying back and Waylon was straddling his torso, his legs parted awkwardly with his back to Eddie. “Lean forward and hold onto my hipssss.” He directed. “I’m going to prepare you.”

 

Waylon did as he was told, albeit a bit nervously, his member pressing down against the Naga’s heated abdomen and causing soft bits of friction that had him worked up near the edge. He took long careful breaths to ease himself back down, afraid to cum too quickly but at this point it was inevitable. He tilted his head back, listening as the naga shifted, sitting up so he had a better vantage, his talons carefully gripping the blonde’s hips as he leaned in and let his tongue snake out. He used his thumbs to pull the plump cheeks apart and give him a better view of his lover’s tight puckered hole. The long tongue prodded at it, lathing over it and making it slick with saliva until it started to give. He added a little bit of pressure before finally pushing in further and breaching Waylon. The male mewled, his nails digging into Eddie’s hips as he moaned, his head tipping back and back flexing. Eddie could feel Waylon’s thighs start to tremble as the naga’s long tongue slithered further in, roaming around and tasting more of the blonde like he was a delicious meal to come. He produced a low growl that had Waylon shivering with excitement.

 

The blonde shifted, arching his back deeply as the tongue moved further inside him until the hot wet appendage slicked over his prostate, causing him to cry out in ecstacy. His member twitching with desire, weeping white beads of precum from his slit and dripping down below onto the toned musculature of the naga’s chest. His head dropping lower to press into the scaly form, his hands moving down along Eddie’s hips until he felt a stronger heat. His nostrils inhaling the thickly sweet scent like nectar from a large fruit flower. His milky eyes lifted in the direction as he followed it until something warm rubbed up against his cheek, dripping slick juices down the hard throbbing shaft. Eddie’s breath hitched and the tongue paused it’s probing as the naga rumbled pleasantly with the skin on skin contact. Waylon made note of this with a curious sound and gave it a gentle lick. Eddie jolted slightly, another rumble in his chest and the tongue wiggled inside him. The blind man smirked with satisfaction at the sounds from the naga as he moved closer, situating his hands so one was wrapped firmly around the base of the closest appendage, his tongue dragging across the shaft and lapping up the sweet flavor of the fluid bubbling up from the slit.

 

Eddie hissed, his mouth working despite his tongue being deeply deposited within the blind man. “ _Dlnnnhg.._ ” He whined, trying to call out the blondes pet name. Waylon obliged him with another long roll of his own tongue across the sensitive tissue. His hand working its way up along the shaft then stroking all the way down to the base with another firm action, repeating the up and down motion as he worked the tip into his mouth, lathing his tongue across the slit and continuing to tease and service the space. Eddie’s coils writhed, curling his long tail around Waylon’s hips and torso, making the blind man arch as the tongue pulled out and was replaced with the slender tip of the Naga’s tail. He slicked it up and pressed it into the needy twitchy hole to help ease him out, stretching him further with short measured thrusts. Sinking in slowly before pulling out and repeating, edging it in further a little at a time until Waylon’s thighs tightened up around Eddie’s hips as the warm seed from the blind man’s shaft spilled out with a stifled cry. It pooled across Eddie’s chest as Waylon shuddered through the sensitivity, his mouth occupied with Eddie’s own sizable girth.

 

The naga chuckled in amusement, using his tail to lift the blind man up, giving a gentle nudge to urge him to relinquish his grip so he could be repositioned. Eddie rested him back down, the tip of his tail still lodged inside Waylon, wiggling around and tickling at the blonde’s prostate with teasing gestured. Eddie moved Waylon’s hands to rest on both of his shoulders for leverage and support as he purred softly into his ear. “Are you ready darling?”

 

Waylon nodded quickly as Eddie’s tail wiggled around inside him. He bit his lip and tensed up, thighs trembling as the appendage was pulled out with a wet popping sound, leaving him feeling stretched and empty inside. Eddie placed his hands on Waylon’s hips and helped guide the blind man down on one of his shafts, letting the slick member push inside the tight and twitching hole. Waylon groaned, his head tipping back and hands gripping Eddie tighter, causing the Naga to pause and provide a look of worry towards the male. Waylon took a few deep breaths with the allowance and worked his way down a little at a time. He made small motions, rising up and down with measured thrusts until he was able to relax and open himself up enough to take Eddie’s shaft to the hilt. The second one was pressing up against his back, bubbling up with the sickly sweet nectar that spilled from the tip and made a sticky mess against his skin. It was warm and pulsing with every movement, drawing the naga to curl his tail and wrap around Waylon’s hips and torso with loving motions. He was mindful of the strength he put into his coils and the grip of his talons on the other’s hips. “It’s alright.” Waylon murmured once he settled with the naga buried inside him right to the hilt.

 

Eddie let Waylon work his way up and set the pace as he moved his hips in slow easy motions, rocking back and forth. Eddie assisted, lifting his hips up and down along the way, his tail coiled up nicely around Waylon to help him keep his balance and pace. Even as his thighs started to tremble and give out from weakness and over stimulation. Eddie directed his hips so he was hitting just the right spot the entire time, pressing up harder with his tip rubbing into Waylon’s prostate before drawing out, making certain to get pleasant sounds from his adorable little minx. Waylon’s head tipped back, lips parted in a lewd expression as he panted and moaned in between thrusts and strokes. He could feel the heat of Eddie’s seed bubbling up inside him, spilling around inside and adding to the tingly pleasant sensation and the slick slide back and forth within his tight heat.

 

When the naga started to near his climax, he tightened up on the male, restricting his movements as the coils slithered around. His tail catching Waylon’s shaft between the coils as they rubbed against it, his form slithering around like a boa with its prey, prepared to devour it completely. His motions picked up pace, driving Waylon to madness with pleasure as he melted into the naga’s embrace, his own seed pooling out of his slit and slicking Eddie’s scales with the small white droplets. His second shaft smearing the nectar across his back and adding to the entrapment of warmth that was undoing Waylon at the seams. Eddie hissed and mouthed at Waylon’s neck, sucking at his skin to leave behind marks as evidence of his claim.

 

Just when Waylon felt the coils growing too tight, Eddie hit the right pace and drove them both into release, spilling their seed over, his own heat pooling inside Waylon, gushing in embarrassingly large quantities from both shafts. Waylon groaned, spurting out a few decent shots of his own seed to further paint Eddie’s torso and scales in his scent. He felt the hot nectar dripping out around Eddie’s member as he gave a few short thrusts to milk every last bit while he could, adding the wet squelching and gurgling sounds to the breathy moans and cries from the blind man as his sensitivity was at a peak. The naga’s tail slowly started to loosen its hold from around his body so they could relax back into the cushions and pillows padding their bodies. Waylon’s skin misted in sweat from the binding heat of his lover against his skin. Eddie’s own body lacking that additional but equally as breathless and boneless. His arms taking up the embrace his tail relinquished as they both melted together into a puddle of affection. Eddie’s lips still peppering Waylon’s neck and face and shoulders with delight, leaving long lasting impressions of his mouth on his skin before moving on to the next piece of ivory canvas. He was half inclined to cover the blind man’s entire body before soft whispers entered his mind.

 

There were words that were hard to understand but a meaning painted its images across Eddie’s eyes like the visions he witnessed before. His brows creased in confusion as he felt the conflicting need and desires settling into his chest, dampening his delight with a heavy burden being laid out before him. It burned with urgency in the back of his mind as the gods continued to use him like an instrument of their will. He felt his fangs ache and mouth run dry as he tried to swallow down the growing nerves before speaking. “Waylon?”

 

“Y-yes?” The blonde spoke softly, his words a bit shaky and broken up with strong heaves of air as he tried to calm his racing heart and settle down. His body weak and weary from their bout of fun but he did not regret it one bit. Only wished he had enough stamina to keep up with Eddie to do it longer. His face was flushed a dark color as his wispy white eyes glanced up in the naga’s direction with a questioning look.

 

Eddie opened his mouth to speak and felt the words go dry on his tongue once more. He swallowed hard and tried again, with something less nerve wracking as he murmured. “I love you.”

 

The blonde’s form perked up, his features tilting into a large grin as he rested his head down against Eddie’s shoulder and nuzzled at him lovingly. “I love you too. So very much.” He purred, releasing a deep sigh as he relaxed a little more, feeling Eddie’s hands roam over his back, the talons gently stroking across his shoulder blades in delicate swirls of motion.

 

“There issss sssssomething I need to assssk you.” Eddie started, pushing past the lump in his throat that was forming in an attempt to stall his progress. He released a deep breath, shifting so he was sitting up more with Waylon held close to his chest. The blonde hissed out, feeling more of the seed inside him dribble out down his thighs, around Eddie’s shaft still keeping him pretty thoroughly plugged up. “Ssssorry.” Eddie murmured, rubbing Waylon’s back gentle to console his upset. Waylon was feeling considerably full inside but it was a satisfying feeling given the circumstances.

 

“It’s alright.” Waylon smiled up at Eddie, giving him a look of consolation before tilted his head to rest against Eddie’s shoulder once more. “What is it you wish to ask?”

 

Eddie bit his bottom lip anxiously, his hands continuing their comforting motions on Waylon’s back, now more for his own well being then Waylon’s as he considered how exactly to put this. “I want to offer you sssssomething ssssspecial. Itsssss ssssssomething that hassss been bessssstowed upon me to give ssssssomeone that I wisssssh to ssssspend the ressssst of my life with. To ssssspend all of eternity with.” He raised his hand to cup Waylon’s jaw and very carefully raise his head to expose his neck, leaving soft kisses along the area he would bestow that gift upon. “The godssss are offering thissss. To usssss. In life and in death, our threadssss will be bound together.”

 

Eddie drew away, just enough to gaze into his human’s milky orbs, his thumb stroking over Waylon’s cheekbone in contemplation before he added. “You will sssstill sssspend eternity in darknesssss.” He murmured. “That issss why I’m leaving the decccccision up to you.” He murmured. “All it takessss isssss a bite from me and we can sssstay together, here in the temple. I won’t sssssend you away if you ssssay no. You will sssstill be my ssssweet darling. My one and only and I’ll love you until the end of your thread.”

 

Waylon considered what Eddie had to say, letting it all soak in to the last detail. He could only imagine what eternity would be like, after a long life already spent in darkness, he wasn’t very certain his life would extend for much longer beyond this point. There was only so much Miles could do for him and with the hatred of the people down in the village, all it would take is a harsh winter or an ailing spring and he would be lost to whatever ails or climate the world could throw at him. He was considerably lucky to make it this far in good health. In fact, it was a blessing. Meeting Eddie, created a light in this foreboding darkness he was cast into and he was able to feel things he had never felt before or hadn’t in a long long time. Eddie not only gave him a purpose, but he was loved and wanted and necessary in the life of another. He was accepted for who he was and that was something Waylon hungered for and craved. For another to touch him this way. For someone to care for him without pity or the obligation of the gods’ favor. Eddie loved him for who he was, despite his disability and Waylon in return shared that same blessed feeling towards the naga.

 

He shifted in place, moving his arms carefully around Eddie’s shoulders so he could loop them around his neck, working his way up Eddie’s jaw until he discovered the naga’s lips. He delivered a long slow deep kiss that caught the serpent off guard but delighted him nonetheless. The naga’s tail curled around his waist as they laid back onto the pillows. The tension in Eddie’s broad shoulders melting away and relaxing again as their tongues mingled and curled around each other, playing hard to get between their lips as they mouthed and danced around. Soon parting with the need for air, Eddie’s eyes clouded with reignited lust and Waylon’s milky eyes full of contentment. “What doesss that mean?” Eddie hissed out with husky confusion, his voice dangling on the bare threads of hope.

 

“That means yes. I accept.” Waylon purred, closing his eyes as he gave another kiss to Eddie’s lips, teasing and fleeting as he made a playful smile. “Eternity with you would be a blessing.”

 

“Yo- you really mean that?” Eddie was dumbfounded, his eyes gazing at Waylon with disbelief, his face twisted up momentarily before he gave in with a delightful growl, wrapping his strong arms around Waylon in a nearly crushing embrace. “Darling!” He blurted, nuzzling at the human’s shaggy blonde locks as he worked down to his neck, mouthing over it before letting his tongue slide out, pressing across the pulse point. His fangs ached within as if they were swollen at the roots. Waylon tilted his neck to expose more of the flesh to his lover before the fangs sunk into his skin. He took a sharp inhale, holding his breath as a warm feeling spread across his body. Eddie felt something leaving his fangs, pumping into the other, his eyes widening as a golden light swirled across Waylon’s body like liquid honey dropping into a pool of milk. It spread across his form, filling the darkness of their sleeping chambers with a near blinding light, forcing him to shield his eyes. He contemplated pulling away but his strength left him, forcing him to remain sunk in until the ache faded from his fangs and the light wore out as well, allowing them to finally part. Eddie watched as the two little punctures remained, the small rivulets of blood falling clear ceased after the first droplets. He ran his tongue across and the markings had become two tiny dots of scar tissue, healed instantly.

 

Eddie smiled, pulling Waylon close to his chest as he rolled them both over so they were lying side by side, drawing a gasp of surprise from Waylon. He smiled in return, pressed his cheek up against Eddie’s as they met with contentment. It lasted a couple minutes until Eddie realized their sleeping chamber was in shambles and Waylon was in dire need of a bath. “Come on darling.” Eddie crooned into Waylon’s neck, boosting him up with his tail so he could slither out with the blind man in his arms. “Letssss get you cleaned up.” Waylon only hummed his approval, holding on tight to his naga lover as they exited the chambers towards the bathing pools. A new and giddy energy filling them both to the brim as if they had been reborn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not the end. There are more chapters to come! Stay tuned.
> 
> The mention of the threads is hinting towards the threads of life that are the equivalent of the human soul in a way. When those threads are cut upon death, the soul is to be sent to the underworld. Eddie and Waylon's threads are braided together and cannot be cut. If they do pass on into the next world for whatever reason that may be, they will be together no matter what, linked by those eternal threads. It is the blessing the gods gave them in reward for their actions.


	8. Beasts of Burden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miles makes a new friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the support so far. I hope you enjoy this next chapter. Please leave a comment below on what you think about it as I introduce a new character to the story. There will still be more Naga!Eddie and Blind!Waylon involved so don't worry.
> 
> Side Note: The flower mentioned in the story is a Narcissus which is from Greek mythology and one of its meanings is for good fortune.

Over a month had passed since the incident with the Naga entering the village and bringing about the gods’ wrath upon over two dozen highly respected and prominent members of the community. The people were still picking up the pieces, mourning and desperate to make things better. To atone for their sins so as not to be cursed like the rest of the blasphemers. After a couple weeks, news had been sent back from the temple, a letter written by Waylon inviting all in the village to return to the temple. To bring the offerings themselves and pray at the altars if they so wish. Many were fearful and apprehensive. Afraid that this was a trap set by the cripple or even the naga. Miles overheard these murmurs and whispers among the villagers and offered to take a handful up to see if it was the truth. He had no fear that Waylon held resentment towards the villagers for their actions but he was curious to see what the temple was really like inside.

 

Many others had followed him up and waited early in the morning for the blind man to greet them at the entrance. He guided them inside, the maze of statues were off putting at first but they were reassured as they spied that at the feet of every single one, there was a single candle that burned in honor of the long since dead. There were candles lining the walls, burning for many more whose statues had since turned to dust and crumbled away. Once they had gotten past the entryway, the temple was massive and quite the brilliance of architecture with its massive columns and soaring ceilings. There were several chambers that Waylon had explained were closed off, preventing others from entering. That they would need special permission to enter. He would lead them into the prayer chamber and let them perform their rites and offerings as they saw fit, lingering near the entrance as he listened to them murmur softly to themselves or greet the gods openly.

 

After a few more visits to the temple, the group of villagers increased to the point where Miles led nearly half the village and several members of surrounding villages up the mountain and they would stay for a couple hours before Waylon would close the temple and usher them people out for the day. Each time, there wasn’t a single sign of the dreaded Naga within. Miles was concerned about this and took Waylon aside to inquire about the absence. He would simply smile and take Miles’ arm and lead him away from the prayer room, down the corridor towards the off limits chambers. Miles was startled when the blind man entered one, pushing past the large wooden door and into a room lit by sconces along the walls. In the center was a mess of serpentine coils tangled up into a massive ball of scales.

 

Miles froze in place when the creature moved, before he could look away or shield himself, his gaze met the Naga’s and he held his breath. There was silence spreading between them before the shepherd gave a sound of confusion and looked down at himself. There wasn’t a single hint of the curse on his body, no sign of stone or a single stiffness to his form. “How?” He finally managed out in disbelief. Emerald eyes flicking from the dark blue gaze of the Naga back to the wispy ghostly eyes of his blind friend.

 

“The gods giveth and the gods taketh away.” Waylon spoke simply, giving Miles a pat on the back that was a little too forceful. “It was their curse to give. Eddie retains the same form as before but his presence no longer harms others.”

 

It was an astounding revelation as Waylon explained their bonding and his newfound immortality. Which he promptly displayed with a sharp bite from Eddie’s fangs marking his arm for Miles to watch, clearing away the blood, there wasn’t even a fleck of evidence that the injury had even happened. With a long conversation between the Naga and the blind man, they decided to reopen the temple and oversee it from that point on, allowing the villagers and anyone who so wished, to come and provide offerings and prayers to the gods. They would also continue to protect the healing pools harbored deep within. Eddie’s presence would remain hidden though, since the Naga wasn’t fond of the villagers or any people other than Waylon really, and he feared that if the villagers knew Eddie remained within, they wouldn’t come up to pray anymore.

 

With the Temple returned, the people in the area seemed to calm down and settle back into their everyday routines. It brought a form of peace to the land and offered a schedule for Miles to work around. He would take turns guiding people up, alternating between himself and one of the local trappers to guide them safely up the paths. Luckily enough, today wasn’t his day to do it. This left him a few days of rest to take his flock out to the further reaches of the valley where they could graze on the taller wild grasses to their heart’s content.

 

It was fairly warm out, despite the early morning hours. The fog had dispersed and the grass still held the slight chill of the dew clinging to its blades, providing a sweet substance to the goats that they delighted in feeding on. The warm golden rays resting on his shoulders with a pleasant heat. Miles was walking the perimeter of his flock when he heard the billy goat bleating loudly, drawing the shepherd’s attention towards an area near the edge of the forest line. There appeared to be a large boulder or protrusion rising from the earth that the rambunctious creature seemed to have perched himself high atop of. There was a smugness in the way he held his head up high, calling out to the shepherd in his accomplishment.

 

He sighed and rolled his eyes, giving in to its plea for attention and praise, making his way through the nearly knee deep grass until the ‘boulder’ was easily in sight. His eyes widened when the protrusion turned out to be a hulking mass of flesh and muscle nearly twice his own size physically. It was stretched out across the earth in a position of distress with half a dozen arrows sticking out of the thick hide of its back. It looked human from the waist up, as far as he could tell. Broad shoulders and bulky, solid muscle with a smattering of tawny colored fur curling along his spine and around his shoulders like a shawl. The head had a short cropping of the same tawny colored hair around it’s head and droopy bull like ears sagging down.

 

What really stood out were the massive set of horns buried into the grass, one of which was cracked and possibly broken off on the end just past the curve. The waist down was a body like a bull, coated in tawny fur that extended down a pair of powerful legs that ended with hooves. As he nudged the tall grass around, he took note of a long cow tail draped down over on of its thighs with a tuft of fur on the end. As he moved around to get a better look, the creature started to move, causing the goat to dismount in a start and leap off of its perch to alert the others in the flock of the possible danger. The creature pressed its hands down into the grassy terrain and pushed itself up to its knees with huge huffing breathes. It’s torso expanding with the layers of muscle, rippling around the upset the arrows were causing. The blood around it matting up the fur and drying to its skin. It was covered in scars and older wounds, still not yet healed. As it got up, it stumbled back, it’s ears flicking and twitching as if in a daze, its hooves digging into the earth to steady itself, large doe brown eyes were gazing around before they locked on the shepherd.

 

The creature raised its arms in front of itself, something of which Miles noted, were human, like the rest of its torso, aside from the light fuzz rising up at the hips and across the chest. There were heavy chains binding around it’s forearms, digging in painfully as if they had been on for a long time in an attempt to confine it. It’s nails were sharper, a couple looked broken and cracked, possibly from trying to get away from whoever was hunting it. The horn that was missing appeared to have happened elsewhere as there was no sign of it in the grassy terrain. The face was mostly human and in appearance with only slight variations in the skull to accompany the size of the horns and the large nostrils. A silver ring was inserted, piercing the center point of the creature’s nostrils, the area around where it was place was also dried and crusted in blood.

 

“Woah, woah, woah.” Miles spoke carefully as a sudden growl rumbled out of the creature’s chest. A Minotaur, if he remembered properly. Yet another cursed being from the gods, birthed of the breeding between a woman and a god gifted Bull. It was farfetched in his mind, but he assumed most anybody would accept that as the proper explanation of where these beings had come from. Much like the Naga in the temple, he assumed it was another unfortunate soul or that these creatures had been around as long as everything else that wandered these lands. Though Minotaur and the like were a rarity to be seen and incredibly dangerous to handle. He was wary, hopeful that it would understand what he was saying. “It’s alright. I’m not going to harm you.” He spoke firmly, his words were slow so it could make sense of them and keep up in its disoriented state. He held his hands up in front of himself to show he was unarmed and harmless.

 

The creature was uneasy, giving the brunette a strange look before scanning the open grassy valley once more then turning its head back towards the woods. There were deep gouges and scratches in the trees coming out and bloody smears along the bark that showed where it came from before collapsing. The creature made a startled sound, it’s tail flicking in the air as it turned, stumbling on its hooves as it struggled to stay on its own two feet before falling back with a thud. Miles reached out to catch it’s arm, gripping the rough chain links in the process and hissing at the cold chill that filled them, biting into his own hands as he tried to steady the beast. It grunted in disapproval, narrowing its eyes on him and waving its arm to send him away. Miles let go and stepped back, holding his hands back up to show he meant no harm but started to step away slowly to return to his flock.

 

He kept his eye on the creature, watching it sit alone on the edge of the field while he tended to the goats and attempted to calm them down. When the sun was beating down on the flock, he took them down to the creek for a drink and refilled a waterskin made of hide that he would let rest in the shade while he wandered the flock until the time came for his thirst. With fresh cool stream water within, he headed towards the creature with the pouch in hand. His flock following along behind him warily, only the billy goat was brave enough to trail to the tree line but kept a careful distance away from the beast. Miles crouched low as he neared the Minotaur, emerald eyes glancing over the beast’s pitiful slumped form. He rested his shoulder against the trunk of a large sturdy tree but was mindful of the arrows buried into his hide. His breathing was still worrisome in its faster pace and those large doe eyes were glazed over and weary.

 

“Here.” Miles offered, holding the pouch out towards the creature, holding it by the leather cord it hung from so the beast didn’t have to get too close to him. “It’s water.” He explained, pulling the cork stopper from the tip and pouring a little into the palm of his hand for the beast to watch. He held it up to his own lips to show it was safe to drink. The Minotaur watched him silently, making no move to take the offering but Miles didn’t give in. He placed the stopper back inside the pouch and sat it in the open near the beast’s hooves, in easy reach encase he was thirsty or changed his mind.

 

As the afternoon turned to evening, Miles returned his flock to their pens for the night and trekked back out to the fields. He didn’t have much to offer the creature but he felt bad that it was all alone out there. In his arms he had the biggest thickest blanket he could offer and a wooden bowl of vegetable stew, uncertain on rather it ate meat or not. He found the Minotaur sitting in the same spot as before, the only difference was he had shifted from one shoulder to the other, just changing the sides of the tree he was leaning against. “I thought you might get cold.” Miles spoke up upon his approach so as not to startle the beast.

 

It’s large brown eyes stared him down quietly, nostrils flaring up with a snort that he could only assume was either a greeting or a warning. “I brought a blanket and some vegetable stew. I know it’s not much but it’s yours if you like.” He explained. The beast made no move of acceptance, leaving Miles to set the items down the same way he had the waterskin. Which, he had noticed was no longer in its previous place. A quick glance over the beast and he found it tucked up against the tree beside him. A small smile curled the corner of his lips before he backed away slowly, leaving the items behind and bidding the creature good night.

  
  


By the next morning, Miles was rising early to tend to his flock and take them out to the fields. Opening the front door of his hut, he nearly tripped over the threshold and the items placed there. The blanket was neatly folded, the bowl of stew was empty and seemingly clean sitting atop the blanket and the waterskin was resting beside that. Empty as well. With it was a stem of small white wildflowers with golden centers. They were rather delicate and well known as a symbol of good fortune. Miles’ lips spread into a fond smile as he plucked the stem up into his hands and felt a warmth curling inside his chest. He turned around and went back inside, looking for a clay vase to pour some water in and setting the flowers in the tiny little square window of his cramped hut. The only source of light inside the little structure. He marveled at the gift before straightening back up and gathering his items. He placed the bowl away to be taken care of later and brought the blanket and his waterskin along with him to be refilled at the creek.

 

His flock followed him out towards the same area of the valley, roaming over the hills of grassy terrain until they had the same treeline in sight. The shepherd felt his heart flip when the tree was absent of the massive beast. His thoughts drifting with concern and worry for the creature but he sucked it up and carried on with the day. By around noon, he took a break in the shade beneath the trees, the blanket spread out across the earth, his waterskin hanging on a branch as he rested against the bark, his fingers curling through the mess of dark brown locks, drawing them out of his face. He watched the goats play, kicking their hooves as they pranced around the field. The babies remained near their mothers as they joined in frolicking and bleating excitedly with their older siblings. The billy goat was proudly watching over them and joining in with a few younger males to spar their horns together. Miles had seen it a million times but he still would cringe every time they would butt heads and their horns would clack loudly. It made him worry about them hurting each other too badly despite knowing what it felt like to be on the bad end of a pair of those and just how hard their skulls were.

 

The shepherd sighed as he felt a shiver run down his back when the breeze rattled the branched together, stirring up an ominous rustling. Then a warmth neared his shoulder. His hair was tousled by the rough hard exhale of warm air escaping large nostrils. He froze, turning his gaze up to meet a pair of large brown eyes staring down at him with curiosity in their gaze. They furrowed in confusion before Miles’ lips spread into a smile, scooting over on the blanket as he patted the place beside him. There was plenty of room on it for the creature to join him though it looked conflicted at the request. It’s ears twitched, the large droopy look adding a soft charm to the hard muscular features that might have been intimidating had Miles not spent most of his life around animals of the same temperament and traits.

 

He offered another patting motion before the beast’s conflict rolled over and submitted. His hooves pressing into the earth as it awkwardly worked its way over to plop down with a slight tremor from his sizable weight. The shepherd offered an encouraging smile, holding out his waterskin to the beast once it had gotten comfortable. His eyes roamed over the creature’s back, seeing the arrows were still present but less noticeable. The ends where the fletchings were, had been broken off but the arrowheads were still buried deep into the tough hide. “I was worried you had wandered off.” Miles spoke up as the creature glanced at the waterskin and accepted the refreshing drink, tilting its head back with a few greedy gulps.

 

It’s good horn digging into the bark of the branches above and causing them to bend and creaking in warning, nearly breaking. He tilted his head forward with a sheepish expression, ears drawn back as he ducked his head down, absentmindedly wiping the water dripping past his lips with the back of his hand. His attention was easily distracted by the things around him, no, more like he was wary. Alert and concerned for his surroundings. His ears flicking and flopping around in the direction of the slightest sounds. Shoulders tensing up at the abrupt movements around them, rather it was birds flying low after grasshoppers in the fields or rabbits suddenly darting through the bushes or crossing the narrow animal trails between trees.

 

“It’s alright.” Miles reassured, reaching out to place a hand on the Minotaur’s forearm to offer a calming presence. His voice dipped low, a soothing tone that hushed the sudden tension in the creature’s form. His expression was soft and relaxed as he hushed the deep inhales, grunting out hard with flaring nostrils. Their eyes met for a long time. A challenge unspoken between them, one that neither seemed inclined to back down from. After several minutes, the Minotaur started to give in and relax. Miles’ hand moved up along the forearm towards his bicep where it stroked across the muscles, fingers curling into the matted tawny fur stretching over his shoulders and back. His gaze flitting over the wounds with concern as he sighed. “What’s your name?”

 

There was silence, the beast seemed to contemplate this. His eyes staring out over the field, watching the goats frolic about with innocence and contentment. Their tails raised up as they bounded from one end of the field to the other and turning abruptly to go back again. An assumed game of tag between the young babes and some of the older siblings of the previous year. “Do you have a name?” Miles spoke up, breaking the silence that settled between them. He reached up and touched his own chest with his hand as the creature turned to address the new motion. “My name is Miles.” He introduced slowly and surely.

 

The beast grunted, giving deep hard breathes before its lips parted, curling to flash its teeth in an awkward grin, he could only assume. “ **Mmmm.** ” It started. “ **Mmmmmiiiillllesss** .” It crooned out. The sound making the shepherd’s heart jump in his chest and pick up the pace a bit. It was certainly different then he was expecting but it was a start and he didn’t really mind it. “ **Miles.** ” It repeated with the deep rumble in its torso, the sides of its rib cage expanding with the massive breathes and decompressing with each exhale with much effort. It was apparent the beast didn’t speak very often.

 

“Good. That’s very good.” He praised, giving the creature a few gentle pats on the shoulder in approval. “Do you have a name?”

 

It paused in this, resuming its deep thought and concentration. It’s mouth opened in another grunt as it attempted to form proper speech once more. This time took even more effort to create. “ **Cccchhhhrrrr.** ” It started with a hard almost cough like sound. “ **Cccchhhhrrruuuusssss** ” It sounded out.

 

Miles listened carefully, trying to work out the sounds himself as he repeated. “Chris?” He spoke slowly again, making sure to sound out each part as he went. The beast nodded, providing a grunt of approval. “Chris.” He spoke again, letting it roll around on his tongue a bit which seemed to please the Minotaur. “Well it’s nice to meet you Chris.” He gave an affirmative pat to the beast’s shoulder which gained another pleased grunt in return.


	9. Saints and Servants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miles seeks the aid of a higher power.

Miles had grown rather fond of the Minotaur as the days passed by. Chris had gotten into the habit of waiting every morning for the Shepherd to bring his flock out into the field and would greet him with a low grunt, flashing blunt teeth in an awkward smile. Miles had left the blanket out for the creature to stay warm as some of the mornings had been rather chilly lately, forcing him to cover up with a robe pulled around his shoulders, resting at his ankles, just above the grass. His trousers stopped just below his knees, allowing for easier movement. His feet were covered only by leather sandals but the dampness or chill didn’t seem to bother him. He was far more inclined to roam about barefoot to feel the soil beneath his feet or to wade into the cooler waters of the creek with his flock. The skin was calloused underneath from climbing rougher rocky terrain up in the mountains or his own foolishness in scaling the trees outlining the valley. 

 

Usually he would roam circles around his flock until he was certain they all had settled into their grazing patterns and remained in fairly decent cluster. He could easily leave them in the care of the billy goat while he’d take a seat besides the Minotaur and share breakfast with the beast. Some mornings would consist of fried potatoes sliced and flattened down into patties with oil drizzled into a pan and he would bring with him a few pieces of bread to have with it. Miles marveled at the curiosity the beast held when he introduced the odd patties to the beast but he seemed pleased nonetheless with the meal. In the afternoons, they would move their spot to an area out in the sun where they would lay side by side, soaking up the warmth of the rays above. 

 

When the time came for the flock to travel to the creek, Chris would trail behind Miles and watch as he would guide a few down to the water’s edge at a time to get a drink, then send them back up and the next few would follow down. There was a system and the animals were all very well conditioned by it already to know who goes next and when. It made it easier on him to keep tabs on them all and ensure none of them ended up in the deeper portions of the creek or that any predators that may be prowling around the water’s edges won’t snatch them up. When the rest of the flock was sated, Chris made his way down to the edge to take a drink from the water, cupping his hands and drawing it up to his lips while Miles refilled his waterskin at his side. The shepherd smiled and patted him gently on the shoulder in praise for his patience with the beast. His emerald eyes glancing over the creature’s back once again to take in the stomach wrenching sight of the wounds. 

 

Miles had tried a few different times to address the injuries on the creature’s back but Chris was still wary and afraid to let him touch them. At times when he seemed in pain, he would return to the tree line as if the thick brush and the shadows from the trees provided enough safety and security for him to be content. Miles was starting to grow even more concerned as the days passed and Chris’ energy was faltering. He was unsteady on his hooves and would sometimes drop down onto his rear in a pitiful thump, breathing heavier then before. There was an acrid scent that lingered around him that was sometimes hard for Miles to stomach but the Shepherd knew it was from the injuries. There was a yellowish fluid that had started to seep out from around the arrow tips still lodged inside Chris’ back. It would drip down into his fur and dry onto his skin. The areas around those points were swollen and bruised, the dark marks rising up from the stained tawny fur. 

 

Miles would have to urge the other to eat at times and at one point, the Minotaur stopped all together. When the day came and Miles was to started making trips back up to the mountain again with the villagers, he was worried that when he returned, the Minotaur won’t be there any more. He rose early in the morning to take breakfast out to Chris, consisting of a few fresh apples they had picked the day before and the waterskin slung over his shoulder. He wrapped up a small loaf of bread in fabric and carried it out to the field, guided only by the pale light of early morning. He had trouble finding Chris today, as the tawny fur melted into the shadows of the tree line and the brush but the scent was foul enough to let him know his ailing companion was present. 

 

Chris made no move or sound to greet him. His breathing was heavier and his ears were drooped down in a pitiful slump. He was lying on his side with a foam forming around his lips. His tail didn’t even offer a flicker when he called out the beast’s name. “Chris.” He spoke in a softer tone so as not to alarm him or stress the creature out. He knelt down beside him and ran his fingers through the tawny locks atop his head. They had grown quite a bit recently and were started to become a shaggy mop that reminded him of Waylon’s style. He raised the waterskin to Chris’s lip and urged a few sips into the beasts’ mouth, watching him slowly accept them and swallow. 

 

His skin was drenched and quivering, the muscles were taut, coiled up and tight. His large brown doe eyes opened slowly, glazed over with confusion as he struggled to focus on the shepherd. His nostrils flared once in a great huff before his body went slack against the ground again. His breathing was still present, the idle expansion and decompression of his torso but his strength was fading. “I have to go up to the mountain Chris.” He explained slowly and carefully. “I’ll be back soon. I need to find  way to fix you, okay?” His hand stroked over Chris’ bicep, giving him soft reassurances as the beast grunted and released a long pained groan soon after. “It’s alright. Just hold on. Stay strong for me.”

 

The trek up the mountain felt unbearably long and hard. He just wanted to reach the temple already but it was troublesome, the elderly were trailing behind as the recent weather wreak havoc on their aging bodies. The little ones grew weary quickly, forcing the mothers to carry them, adding to the slower pace. The shepherd’s patience was running thin by the time they finally reached the temple. He let Waylon perform his usual rites as he led the group in to the prayer room to begin their offerings. 

 

The shepherd waited until all others were busy with their routines before approached the blind man, giving a soft tug on his tunic sleeve to urge him to follow. “We need to talk, please.”

 

Waylon let Miles guide him down the hallway until they were safely out of earshot of any of the other villagers. Waylon’s face crinkled up when Miles turned to face him, the silence broken by a sudden cough from the blind man. There was obvious concern on Waylon’s face as he reached out and touched Miles’ chest, his palm finding its way to the shepherd’s heart, letting the pulse vibrate within his rib cage and feeling out the strong motions. His concern lessened at his friend’s assured health before the worry was brought about. “Miles, why do you smell like the dead?”

 

Those words struck a nerve in the shepherd that frayed his already thread bare nerves. He gritted his teeth, feeling his heartbeat pick up pace with the emotions grinding around inside him like a crude mortar and pestle working away at his sanity. “I need to make a request of the gods. A…  _ friend  _ of mine is injured and very sick. It’s something only the gods can fix. Please Waylon.”

 

“You want to use the healing pools.” It was less of a question and more of a statement but Miles responded either way with a hum of affirmation. “Come with me. You need to address the issue with Eddie.” With that, Waylon was briskly walking towards the closed off section of the temple. The blind man’s sense of direction partnered with the very detailed mental map in his head allowed him to make his usual rounds about the temple without fear of getting lost or turned around. 

 

It didn’t take long for them to reach the sleeping chamber with the naga coiled up inside upon the heaps of cushions. His tail unfurled with a low hiss as blue eyes darted up towards the pair. Eddie’s nostrils flared up as he recoiled back with a low wary growl on his lips. The scent coming from Miles was enough to sicken the creature, forcing him to press his hand over his face. “What issss that?” His words were sharp, spit like venom but dampened by the stifled gesture of his hand. 

 

Miles frowned, raising his arm to give his shoulder a sniff, tugging at his clothes in confusion.  _ Did he seriously smell that bad?  _ He started to think back and wondered if maybe the other villagers could smell it on him as well. He rolled his eyes at the thought and shook it from his head as he addressed the Naga. “I need to make a request of you.” His words were firm but Eddie seemed displeased by the demand, narrowing his sharp blue eyes at the Shepherd. “My friend is very sick. No mortal doctor can help him. He needs the healing waters from the spring.” 

 

The naga tensed at the request, gaze flitting from the shepherd towards Waylon and back. His eyes narrowed sharply as he slithered closer to the male. It resulted in a crude growl as his body leaned back in an awkward formation, his tail curling up around him to support his looming size as he attempted to resemble a cobra prepared to strike. “Why ssssshould I help thisssss friend of yourssss?”

 

“Eddie!” Waylon blurted in disappointment, drawing the Naga’s attention. The creature’s hackles rose at being called out so suddenly but seeing the disapproving look in those white wispy orbs, he groaned. “If it wasn’t for Miles helping me, we wouldn’t be standing here right now. Remember that.”

 

The creature's face took on a slight flush and his proud looming stance withered. “If your sssscent issss any warning, they ssssmell near death already.” Eddie spoke frankly, crossing his arms.

 

“Then please, help him!” Miles was growing frustrated, knowing well that every second wasted up here was another second Chris was closer to the underworld. He curled his fingers tightly into fists. Waylon’s hand found its way to his shoulder, a soothing touch that helped ease peace over Miles’ mind. His weary emerald eyes turned towards his friend as he let out a deep exhale. “He’s been through enough. He doesn’t deserve to die like this.”

 

Eddie grumbled softly to himself, thinking back to the visions delivered to him of Waylon. Of all the dreams he had, the nightmares of the blind man’s death. He could sympathize with Miles’ position and with that he slithered closer to the brunette and rested both of his hands onto his shoulders. His talons were careful not to apply too much pressure, taking as much care with Miles as he would with Waylon. “Closssse your eyesss. Clear your mind. Think of your friend.” The naga waited as Miles did as he asked. “Relaxxxx.” He crooned as his hands moved up to cup Miles’ head. It was an uncomfortable interaction for the shepherd but it couldn’t be helped. The Naga took a deep breath, trying not to buckle under the stench of rotting flesh as he cleared his own mind and plucked at the same strings and presence he had been surrounded by for so long. The essence of the gods. 

 

Not long after they decided to reopen the temple, Eddie could feel the gods’ presence had returned. As they spend days cleaning it up until it was presentable and functional again, he knew the gods were watching. He had dreams influenced by their presence, heard their whispers amongst the empty chambers and corridors. He thought he was going mad but Waylon told him he could feel it too. Their influence. Their support. Their encouragement to bring the people back to the temple. After that, Eddie spent his days within the sleeping chamber, doing nothing more then growing more acutely aware of them. Now, to the point where he could pluck at the threads that drifted around them. Golden and silver strands that slithered like serpents through the air. Drifting above or coiled around below. Some were warmer than others, Some were colder. The ones with warmth in their fibers were the ones that offered aid to the Naga. 

 

There were so many silver threads, cold and indifferent to his needs, but one golden fiber stretched out and waved the warmth before him. A single tendril in his mind and he pulled on it, not hard. His actions were gentle. A light touch requesting permission to accept. The thread would unwind itself and pool into his grasp, letting him mold it however he needed. When it morphed into a serpent, it would coil along his forearm and up to his shoulder. Their eyes would meet and words would pass, never leaving their lips but echoing in their minds. Loud and clear for the other to hear. When the request was made, the serpent turned its attention to the Shepherd, entering the opening in his mind that he prepared. From there is vanished, nestling into his thoughts and slithering through his memories. It knew what ones held the most power, seeking them out and admiring the work of the Shepherd. How dedicated and devoted he was, not just to his flock but to other creatures as well. His compassion for Waylon and the deeds he expressed for the people of the village, despite the cruelty they had showed him, even in his times of grief and need. He never once turned his back on anyone.

 

As the serpent addressed the problem at hand, Miles felt a weight on his shoulders. An urgency that settled across him. The hands around his face seemed to grow uncomfortably cold and every part of his body ached deeply. The strength he carried all the way up the mountain felt drained from him, causing his knees to buckle with a sharp cry of pain. A fire at his back, spreading as his skin blistered and bubbled. His voice failed to reach out to Waylon or Eddie. His breathing ceased, a lump swollen in his throat, forcing him to gasp and sputter, foaming at the mouth with his struggles. Fear ignited in his heart, the fear of dying. The fear of pain. The suffering. That this would never end. Yet at the very root of it all, was the fear of Chris being alone, suffering in that treeline. Fear that the villagers will find him and inflict more harm on the beast. Fear that Chris will think Miles has forsaken him. That the Shepherd abandoned him in his time of need. 

 

It was this fear that the serpent thread seemed to approve of. With a hiss, the pain stopped, The air returned to his lungs and his strength was given back, spreading throughout his body. His heart was hammering in his chest as the hands on his face warmth and a single droplet of water landed on his forehead from up above. A single damp line resting between his eyes and sliding down his face. He hadn’t realized when Eddie released him. His eyes were open, staring up at the blue eyed Naga’s gaze with confusion, his fingers rising to wipe the droplet away but Eddie stopped him, gripping his wrist tightly before letting go. “The Godsss have approved your request.”

 

“That’s great!” Waylon blurted in excitement, causing Miles to jolt in place, jarred by the experience he had just gone through. It was a bit disorienting and left him feeling fuzzy in the head but he was happy nonetheless. “You should hurry and bring your friend here.” The blind man urged.

 

“I-...I can’t. He can’t move on his own.” Miles’ voice dropped low. “He’s too big for me to shoulder him.” He rubbed at his eyes with the ball of his palms, trying to think of a way to bring Chris up without anyone seeing him.

 

“I have to close the temple soon.” Waylon offered, his hand finding Miles’ back again and providing soothing motions over his shoulders, rubbing along to reassure his friend. “Eddie can go down and help you bring him back. Right Eddie?”

 

“Wha- Wait! Darling?” Eddie looked confused, lowering himself to the ground to wrap around Waylon, his tail looping over his lover’s waist as he protested softly.

 

“No buts. The gods have approved of Miles’ request. Do not let that opportunity slip by. You will help Miles’ friend.” Eddie opened his mouth to protest but Waylon could already see it coming as he added. “Or I’ll invoke a vow of abstinence starting now.” He threatened, causing the Naga to close his mouth and groan. 

 

His talons teasing at Waylon’s shaggy golden curls as he muttered. “You know, the godsss knew what they were doing when they thread my heart to sssssuch a ssssly little minxxx.” The naga pressed soft kisses to Waylon’s cheek, nuzzled at him affectionately before Miles interrupted with the clearing of his throat. 

 

Waylon’s pale features took on a soft pink flush as he nodded. “Sorry. I better go close the temple.” He tapped Eddie’s coils, signalling for the Naga to unfurl before the blonde held an arm out to Miles, urging the shepherd to take it and guide him out. 


	10. The Divinity of Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to post this chapter and follow it up with another for just fanart. So please stick around. We still have much more to come.

After Waylon closed the temple, Miles led the villagers back to the base of the mountain. Eddie lingered a while until he knew it was safe enough and started his own trek down to the mountain, cutting his way across the side when he neared the base, slithering through the thicket of woods and brush. He was forced to scale the trees and make his way through there to avoid the hunters in the area as night started to near. As he made his way to the valley, he could catch the scent of the Minotaur from the edge of the grassy line. A clear sign that things were worse than he thought. The shepherd was already making his way across the valley when the naga joined him, guided towards the heap of trembling fur and quivering musculature pressed up against the shadows. Eddie could barely contain himself to keep from gagging with his acute sense of smell. His blue eyes widening at the sight of the beast and it’s terrible situation. “You didn’t mention your friend wasss a Minotaur.”

 

“Did it really matter?” Miles’ tone was chipped, edged with his own worry for Chris. His status was worse then before and Miles was terrified that he wouldn’t make it up the mountain at this rate.

 

“I thought they had gone extinct a long time ago.” Eddie muttered, his gaze roaming over the creature’s form and seeing the swelling on its back and the infection that had formed beneath his skin. The puss was the source of the vile stench, which Eddie dreaded getting that close to the beast.

 

“They just might if we don’t help him. Come on.” Miles barked, moving to grasp at Chris’ arm, rubbing his palm over the beast’s bicep in comforting motions. “Chris, I brought help. Okay?” He spoke slowly, his voice tinged with small shreds of impatience as he wanted to move quickly. “We’re going to carry you up the mountain, alright?” He started to explain as he tugged on Chris’ arm to try and get him to sit up. The Minotaur opened its eyes to look over the shepherd. They were tired and the color in them was fading out and blurry. His head rolled to the side lazily as he considered the second figure. The stranger at Miles’ side.

 

Chris’ large brown eyes widened with a sudden beastly cry of alarm. He pushed himself up to his knees, lowering his head to aim his horns at the Naga. When Miles tried to settle him down, Chris grabbed him by the front of his robes and shoved hard, knocking him back to the ground. It was strong enough to force the air out of his chest, causing him to choke and gasp to refill them. Eddie was prepared for trouble, his coils bound up as his body swerved and swayed side to side to confuse the beast in its delirious state. Chris’ gaze flitted up just enough to meet Eddie’s deep blue orbs. Something in the depths of those eyes had him transfixed.

 

Eddie hissed slowly, his motions continuing as his gaze was set and locked with the Minotaur. “Sssssleeeep.” Eddie murmured. Repeating the command over and over again. Chris’ body trembled as he struggled against the hypnosis but soon his strength gave out and his body collapsed with a thud against the ground. Eddie sighed, cursing under his breath as he wiggled his tail around to underneath the beast, wrapping his scaly appendages around the Minotaur’s torso. He gritted his teeth, flashing his fangs with a shiver of disgust that had him bunching up on himself as the puss and fluid from the injuries seeped out and over his tail. “Disssssgussssting.” He howled, not at all caring that Miles heard his lament.

 

The shepherd had picked himself up as he watched the naga try to reposition the Minotaur the best he could in his tail before they started their trek back up towards the temple. Waylon was already eagerly awaiting their return and had opened up the doors to the healing spring for Eddie to hurry right to it. Maneuvering past the hall of statues was an obstacle of its own first, desperately trying not to break any of them or knock them over. Eddie was relieved when he finally entered the chamber with Miles briskly following behind.

 

He checked on Chris’ breathing, finding it was faint but still present before Eddie lowered him into the waters of the pool. Miles looked to Eddie with question before his gaze darted back towards the Minotaur, watching as sank down in slowly. Eddie’s tail kept enough of a grip on the beast to keep him from going beneath the surface. Miles watched for several minutes but nothing seemed to be happening. His brows knitted with concern as they waited, growing impatient as Chris’ status seemed to continue gradually declining. “When is it going to work?” Miles huffed, looking back at Eddie and then Waylon who stood near the doorway.

 

“Give it time.” Waylon murmured, his voice was soft, entering the air like a whisper. His eyes staring distantly into the dark before his lips curled at the corner, a small smile of approval. Eddie’s demeanor changed as well as a soft sound drifted on the air. The single quiet chime, nearly missed by those who weren’t accustomed to hearing it. Miles felt the weight on his chest fade, the tension releasing in his shoulders and melt away like a breath of fresh air. He turned his emerald eyes back to the Minotaur and spied the arrow heads sinking to the bottom of the pool, pushed out of Chris’ body. The swelling and discoloration in his back and shoulders faded as well, returning him to a far more fit state then Miles had seen before. His one horn remained broken off at the end though and the chains on his forearms stayed but Miles was appreciative of what the healing pools could offer.

 

Eddie carried Chris out of the water when it was over but the blind man caught Miles before he could go anywhere else. “You should clean up some first.” Waylon spoke softly, touching Miles’ arm gently and working his hand back to rest on his friend’s shoulders. “Eddie will take good care of him. It’s time you took care of yourself for a change.” He hummed as Miles gave in, allowing the male to guide him out of the healing chamber and towards their usual bathing pools. A long warm soak later, Miles found himself wrapped up in a fresh set of robes and was directed towards another of the closed off rooms.

 

It was another sleeping chamber, much smaller than the one Eddie and Waylon occupied but equally as lavish. He could only assume who it housed within but it had a pile of cushions padding the ground with several blankets folded neatly off to the side. There was a meal prepared and sitting on a tray if the shepherd was hungry. A pitcher of fresh water beside it. Two sconces were lit at the entrance, providing enough light for him to see. Sheer curtains were tied back to allow view of the rest of the room and the familiar sleeping form of the Minotaur resting on the cushions.

 

He slowly made his way over, dropping down to his knees at the creature’s side. His hands were hesitant before they rested on the broad muscular chest of the beast, curling through the light curls of tawny fur across his pecs and in the small divots between his muscles. The injuries were completely healed up, including the one caused by the piercing on Chris’ nose. Miles couldn’t help himself as he reached a hand to stroke through the soft shaggy locks in his hair, carding through and gently caressing the droopy cow ears at the sides. They would twitch lightly, the beast’s lips would part with a soft sigh as he’d shift in his sleep then relax again. His cheek pressed against the side of the shepherd’s thigh. Miles’ face flushed softly in surprise but he didn’t withdraw his hand. Letting the motions continue as he settled in beside the beast. Letting him rest against his leg as Miles draped himself partially against Chris’ torso. His head resting against his rib cage, listening to the strong firm heartbeat that was supposed to occupy his chest. Feeling every deep healthy inhale of breath and the way it rustled through his brunette locks with each exhale.

 

He smiled, letting the security of his friend’s fate and the warmth of the Minotaur's body ease his worries until they were no more. The grief and exhaustion of the day got the better of him and soon swept him away to a peaceful sleep.

  
  
  


The next morning, he was greeted by a pair of large brown doe eyes staring up at him from a partially reclined position. He wasn’t at all certain how it happened but Miles was lying against Chris’ chest, his head resting against the beast’s shoulders with its strong arms clasping his hips to keep him from sliding off. The beast’s complexion was much better and he was a lot more alert and aware of his surroundings. His nostrils flared with a deep exhale ruffling up the unruly mess of brown locks atop the shepherd’s head and drawing a smile to his lips. Miles raised his arms and snaked them around Chris’ shoulders to offer an embrace, glad to see his friend was doing better. “I was so worried I was too late.” Miles murmured into the fur that that curled up from Chris’ shoulders like a warm shawl. It smelled pleasant, like scented oils and sweet lilies on his skin. The same seemed to roll off of his own form, a far better replacement then the acrid stench of death that had plagued them both.

 

“ **Miles.** ” Chris crooned out, his voice was higher in pitch to portray his excitement at seeing the shepherd again. His ears were perked up more, flipping around in lazy delight as he pressed closer to the shepherd and nuzzled at him fondly.

 

“I know Chris. I’m happy to see you too.” Miles greeted, reaching up to ruffle the shaggy tawny locks of his companion’s hair and rub his thumbs across the soft and goofy ears. Their foreheads pressed together as they savored the other’s presence. Miles could only imagine how scared the creature was to be all alone down there in the valley, each night he spent with those injuries. It made his heart ache and feared that Chris would no longer be there when he awoke. Now he didn’t have to fear for the beast’s safety and he had never felt such a weight expelled from his chest with relief.

  
  
  
  


“Please, can he stay here for a little while? I can’t take him back down to the village and there’s nowhere for him to stay. He’s safer up here.” Miles voice echoed down the chamber from the bathing rooms where he discovered Eddie coiled up in the water’s soaking away the _‘stench’_ the naga swore was ingrained into his scales now after carrying Chris up the mountain. He hadn’t left the bathing chamber much since he delivered Chris to the sleeping room and had burned incense throughout the entirety of the temple to ward off the smell. Waylon only seemed to encourage the action by providing Eddie with more candles and scented oils. In truth, it brought a smile to the blind man’s lips every time he mentioned the smell and would receive a long drawn out groan forcing Eddie to return to the chamber and soak for longer.

 

Now the pair was stretched out in the water, Waylon’s body bare and resting atop Eddie’s as he floated on the surface. His head tucked up against his lover’s shoulder, offering a soft hum of agreement. “I don’t see any problem with it. As long as he remains in the sleeping chambers during temple hours, he can stay.”

 

“But….darling…” Eddie’s words carried on in protest as if giving a dramatic gesture to the supposed _‘smell’_ the beast of burden tend to carry.

 

“Eddie, what did I say?” Waylon’s voice was uncharacteristically stern and surprisingly responsible. Miles didn’t get to see the confident independent side of his friend. Waylon was always so submissive and quiet but it would seem he was taking his new responsibilities to heart and in doing so, it unfurled the quiet introverted cripple to become someone with a stronger more commanding presence but he never really used that ability against others. Well, only when he was teasing Eddie or reminding the naga of the teachings of the gods. To show compassion and sympathy and generosity to those cast into the pits of misfortune.

 

Eddie answered with another groan and gave a light splash to Waylon in retaliation, drawing a soft huff from the blind male who returned the gesture with a stronger splash. Both of their stern and strict expressions melted into large smiles and laughter, followed by more affectionately nuzzling. The naga peppering kisses across the blind man’s face and causing Miles’ own expression to flush a pinkish hue as he averted his gaze. “Really you two.” He huffed. “Can you keep your hands to yourselves? I’m afraid to think what it is you do when the temple hours are past.” He shivered, not wanting that sort of idea to cross his mind involving his close friend. Especially considering he had seen everything Waylon had to offer beneath his robes and tunic. Miles had been his caretaker for nearly a decade.

 

Eddie flashed his sharp fangs at Miles as if in warning, the tip of his tail flicking and sending a few droplets of water to hit the shepherd in the face. Miles sighed, wiping them clear with the sleeve of his robes as Eddie spoke. “Fine. He can sssstay. But only if he sssstays in the chamber when you’re not here.” Eddie’s talons carded through Waylon’s messy blonde locks, drawing the bangs out of the blind man’s face so he could gaze into the milky pearls he adored so much. “Got it?”

 

“Understood.” Miles gave his affirmation, watching Waylon melt beneath the Naga’s touch. The shepherd shivered and turned to leave, heading out to check on Chris and ensure he understood the new rules and situation. He really didn’t want the beast to become upset in his absence and come down to the village looking for him.


	11. Fanart Addition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is just fanart as I had recieved a considerable amount after the last couple chapters and wanted to take a moment to recognize the talented artists and their contributions.

 

Naga Eddie with Waylon. And Minotaur Chris with Miles. The flowers above are Narcissus flowers (they appear to be at least) These were created by @patchworkweddingdress .

 

As well as this little extra piece from their favorite scene in chapter 9.

 

 

The next piece is by @saltyporkbuns from tumblr who has also done a few adorable pieces for my Coyote!Miles x Hunter!Chris one shot. This one is of our darling shepherd and Minotaur out in the valley field. 

 

 

 

Thank you all so much for your beautiful work. It warms my heart to see my writing could inspire such colorful and expressive pieces. I get excited every time a new piece appears. ^.^  And thank you all for allowing me to share these wonderful works with others. 


	12. Tales Of The Mountain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris gets into some trouble and Miles eavesdrops on some gossip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the next chapter! I hope you all enjoy it. You can be expecting some smut and frottage for the next one.

Eddie was helping Waylon with the early morning preparations before opening the temple. He'd slither about, lighting and replacing each of the candles around the statues and in the entryway, melting down the wax from the old ones to be given new wicks and made anew. They were busy, knowing the sun was rising fast and the villagers would be arriving soon. The pair nearly forgot that they had a new guest staying with them, that is until Eddie rounded the corner to return to his chamber and the beast was looming in the corridor, looking confused and agitated. It's hooves slipped uneasily on the smooth polished stonework, struggling to stand firmly as it lumbered about. The large doe eyes fixed on the Naga and narrowed with a grunt. Chris’ nostrils flared with a snort, a deep rumble from his chest was the only warning. An ancient curse left Eddie’s lips before the Minotaur charged for him.

 

Waylon was unaware of the problem as he waited for the villagers by the entrance. His head perking up when he heard a loud thud and a hiss drag out as Eddie tried to corral the beast. He grappled it with his tail, mindful of the already broken horn on one side as he pressed the beast back. Chris swung his arms hard, squirming free as the chained forearm met the side of Eddie’s face. It caused a white out behind his eyes, jarring him enough to loosen his coils. The beast backed up then charged into Eddie, head down and hooves digging into the stonework, gouging it out as he plowed into the naga’s hard scaly abdomen.

 

Eddie hissed out, his tail swinging to sweep the beast off of its feet and knocking it back onto its rear. It cried out with an inhuman howl like an irate bull before scrambling to get back up. Eddie heard Waylon’s voice rising through the halls as he started the rites before the villagers could enter. He gritted his teeth knowing he was limited on time. He lunged for Chris, wrapping his tail around the beast to constrict his movements as he forced the creature to meet his gaze, talons curled around the beast's horns. His eyes widened, the chocolaty brown meeting the oceanic blue as the Naga’s true power was unleashed. His body swayed slowly back and forth like a stone pendulum, ticking by until he had the beast captured in his trance.

 

As the rites continued, nearing their end, the Naga hoisted the docile and dazed beast up, partially dragging him with his tail towards his designated sleeping chamber. Slipping inside just as the villagers made their way through the entry hall of statues and towards the prayer room. He kept the beast bound as he set Chris upon the pile of pillows and waited impatiently for Miles to come and claim his problematic pet.

 

It took awhile until Miles was able to sneak away from the prayer chamber and slip down the closed off section of the temple. His emerald eyes glancing about encase someone spotted him before he found the chamber he was looking for. Pushing the door open, he was excited to see Chris again but was met with the odd sight of the very displeased Naga wrapped around the dazed Minotaur. Eddie’s arms were crossed in front of his chest as he loomed over Chris from behind, his blue eyes narrowed on Miles with annoyance. Chris’ doe eyes settled on the shepherd’s silhouette, illuminated by the sconces near the entrance as the door drifted closed behind him. The Minotaur let out a deep almost wounded cry to his companion that received a hard squeeze from the Naga. “Quiet you!” He hissed sharply.

 

Chris squirmed in place and grunted, prepared to give another groan in distress before Miles rushed to his side, placing his hands on Chris’ shoulders and gently rubbing the tawny layering of fur. He gave soft reassurances and hushed the beast as their foreheads pressed together. “It’s alright. I’m here Chris.” He ran his fingers up to caress the sides of the beast’s face until the Minotaur had calmed down enough. Eddie slowly released his coils and slithered away from the beast with a frown.

 

“He wassssss out during temple hoursss.” He stated flatly with disapproval in his tone. “He attacked me on sssssight.”

 

“He was probably looking for me.” Miles offered a look of apology as his hands ruffled Chris’ droopy ears to make them twitch and flop around, helping to ease the beast’s nerves with the familiar affection. Eddie let out a frustrated grumble as he neared the door and peered out around the corner with a huff. It would be too hard to try and sneak back to his chamber without being spotted so instead he lingered near the entrance until Temple hours were over.

 

Meanwhile, Miles shared breakfast with the Minotaur, brought up in his pack from the village. It consisted of a mash of apples into a fine paste with a pinch of cinnamon and the fried potato patties that Chris enjoyed so much. He had a small loaf of bread which they split, Chris having two thirds while Miles had the smaller portion. The shepherd seemed content by the Minotaur’s side and when their meal was done, he stretched out across the beast’s chest as they laid down together. Chris’ large strong arms resuming their careful hold of his hips as his tail flicked idly between his powerful legs. His ears would flick and flop around, most often from Miles’ own curiosity to play with them. His fingers brushing over the edge of the broken horn, inspecting the deep cracks in it and the small signs of healing. Chances were it might never grow back like the other unless filed down to the base or it may never grow back at all. Though, Chris seemed content without it so Miles didn’t feel any cause to worry.

 

The shepherd’s hands tended to wander down from there but the time to linger was short lived as Waylon returned to the chamber in search of Eddie to help with the clean up. That was Miles’ cue to return to the front of the temple and guide the villagers back down to the base. He sighed, giving Chris a soft pat on the head and leaving a gentle peck on his forehead as he picked up his waterskin and turned towards the door. “I’ll be back later tonight, alright?” He told Chris, his emerald eyes flitting over the sad brown orbs that pleaded for him to stay. “Be good for Eddie and Waylon, alright? Otherwise we can’t stay here. That would be bad, okay.” He explained in slow easy to understand sentences until he got a grunt of affirmation. “Good boy.” Miles piped up, tossing a bright smile of approval to the beast before heading out.

  
  
  


On the trip down, they took their time, finding no rush with the warm afternoon sun on their backs. The weather was fair with a slight breeze ghosting through the trees to cool them. His ears were wary of any sounds of predators but also listening to the local gossip as elderly women and young mothers bickered back and forth about the politics of the village and those surrounding the region. Their group was growing more diverse with every passing and he was noticing more and more new faces around the village. Some of which, he glanced back and took note of a pair of rougher looking men that escorted a small cluster of farmers through the forest on the other side of the valley. Coming from the same direction Chris had. They wore thick leather armor to pad their bodies from harm and carried bows on their backs. One had a considerably large hunting knife on his belt and was seen playing with it often, shaving pieces off of fallen branches to occupy his hands.

 

Miles had yet to get a good look on either of them, as they prefer to remain towards the back of the group and mixed in easily with the rest of the people when entering the temple. He noticed they were wary when entering the hall of statues but unlike most newcomers they weren’t put off by it. They seemed more _prepared_ as if they were expecting something else to be present within those hallowed halls.

 

Miles thoughts about the hunters were interrupted when he picked up on an interesting topic brought up by a middle aged farmer’s daughter. She held a little girl in her arms who appeared to have already dozed off on her mother’s shoulder. She was bundled up a bit to protect her from the chill of the wind as the ladies all spoke about the recent worries and woes of the area.

 

“Oh! Did ya hear?” She murmured in sudden excitement and urgency.

 

“Hear what?” The older woman beside her inquired.

 

There was a pause before the younger woman seemed to speak as if wary of those who may be listening in. “There was a Minotaur spotted not too long ago.”

 

“Noooo.” The elder woman spoke in disbelief. Miles could almost imagine her rolling her eyes at the news.

 

“No, honest. Supposedly it’s been terrorizin travelers along the countryside. Farmers are fearin fer their lives and their animals.” She urged on.

 

There was a deep intake of breath from the elderly woman before she murmured. “Oh my.”

 

“One of the Lords in the area has put up a bounty fer the beast. Hunters from all over have been scourin the woods fer it.” She said in a matter-of-fact tone. “My husband lost a portion of his crop to the monster. It stampeded on through.” There was rustling, the shifting of fabric and a grunt as she readjusted the child in her arms. “They say the monster’s just up n’ vanished.”

 

“I hope it moved on to somewhere else.” The elderly woman sighed, her tone was downcast and worried.

 

“From the sounds of it, you all had a troublesome time as well.” The young woman prodded a bit.

 

The elderly woman was silent for a few minutes before releasing a deep weary breath. “A few months ago, yes. There was a horrid Naga that came down the mountain and attacked many of the townsfolk with accursed vipers. It spread a plague of blindness then vanished. It used to occupy the Temple but now it’s gone and that poor cripple boy is up there all alone.” The woman shifted again, adjusting the pack she carried on her hip. “There are whispers that the beast used to be a prince that angered the gods. That it was forced to stay inside the temple. A few fear it found a replacement with that boy and that it may still be loose in the mountains.” Miles heard her bag shift and slide down her arm as she gestured around.

 

There was a fearful gasp from the young woman as she spoke quickly. “Did ya send hunters after the beast?”

 

“Deary, do you remember all those statues we passed inside the temple?”

 

“Yeah…” Her voice trailed.

 

“Those all used to be people. Poor souls pitted against the beast. It’s gaze turns all to stone. For centuries, many have fallen beneath that drasted curse.”

 

Silence seemed to follow soon after that as the weight of those words and the truth of what resided within the temple depths curled into the minds of the women. From then on, the trip was solemn and very few really spoke except to point out the odd animal in passing and to comment on the pleasant weather. When they reached the bottom of the mountain, the clusters of people split up to head to their homes or to scour the market for any goods they were in need of. Those visiting from other villages followed the pair of hunters towards an encampment outside of town. One of which rested on the top of a hill where old stonework outlined the scant remainder of a cottage foundation. It was a hill with many memories and much heartbreak that Miles was far too acquainted with.

 

Those who traveled alone found lodging at the local tavern, occupying the few rooms available or siddling up with other members within the village, taking up space on their floors. The Shepherd sighed as he returned to his own little hut to take his flock out for a brief visit to the field, letting them wander a bit to graze and trail down to the creek bed for a drink. As the afternoon carried on, he spied the same pair of hunters walking through the treeline. The dark leather of their clothing sticking out against the vivid greenery of the woods. One would stop and kneel along the animal trails or inspect the flattened or scuffed up earth nearby. Their eyes gazing around the woods until they spotted the shepherd guiding his flock away from the creek. Their expressions looked displeased, they appeared tense and uneasy before turning away and heading deeper into the woods, vanishing from his sight. Miles didn’t see them again the rest of the day.


	13. Primal Dilemmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miles gets a few days to spend in the temple and there's mischief afoot. Eddie disapproves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff, Smut and disagreeing Naga's ahead!
> 
> Also! Art by @saltyporkbuns on tumblr. I love expressive ears of any kind and Chris' are too freaking pure not to love. 
> 
> Please leave a comment below of what you think and enjoy the next chapter!

 

 

With the terrible weather on the horizon, the temple had been closed off for two days until the rain died down, allowing Miles time away to visit with the Minotaur. He didn’t have to fret about his flock as he entrusted his neighbor to check on them periodically and feed them a bit of grain in the mornings. There was enough extra food lying inside their barn for them to settle for a couple days and they weren’t very likely to stray out into the pasture during the rain anyway. He took a recent supply of candles up, offered by the local tavern owner. They couldn’t make the trip up to pray to the gods and provide offerings but they decided to substitute it by supplying Waylon with candles to keep them burning around all of the statues in memory of the lost.

 

He also procured some of the spiced juice Waylon enjoyed so much and sweet breads from the baker. Making the trip up was troublesome as night started to fall quickly and the wind picked up with the storms coming in. The sky was dark and blanketed heavily with clouds, blotting out the last shreds of daylight and forsaking the moon from gifting any light at all on his path. He made it to the entrance of the temple just in time for the rain to start coming down. He sighed, running his fingers through the dark brown locks as he called out to alert the others to his presence. “Waylon! I’m back!”

 

He quietly worked his way through the hall of statues, the soft ambient light of all the candles lighting the way until he reached the intersecting corridors, better illuminated by the sconces and torches lining the walls. He gave a glance towards the Naga’s sleeping chamber, seeing the doorway was cracked open a bit and soft sounds were coming from within. He rolled his eyes as he sighed. “By the gods, it’s a wonder this place is still considered holy.”

 

He shook his head and turned down the corridor only to run right smack into the large muscular form of the Minotaur looming over him. Miles grunted, knocking his head against Chris’ toned chest and stumbling back. Strong arms grabbed him by the shoulders to steady him as he rubbed at his forehead, mumbling. “Hey Chris.” He tilted his emerald eyes up towards the beast and met the massive charming doe eyes that melted his heart every damn time. He smiled as the droopy cow ears perked and wagged with the motion, his massive head tilting to one side, his broken horn leaning down a bit as he grunted in greeting. His tail was wagging and flicking about behind him, the soft thump was audible against his furry thighs. “Come on. I’ve got something for you.”

 

Miles reached up and took Chris’ hand into his and started guiding him back to their sleeping chamber. There was nowhere near as many pillows and cushions within as Eddie and Waylon’s chamber. It was functionally comfortable with a designated sleeping space and an area for him to store things for Chris off to the side. He had pulled a short table, about a foot tall, from one of the other closed off rooms and set it up so they had a place to sit at and eat. They normally rested on the ground since Chris’ size made it impossible to use any normal furniture and Miles was more content sitting next to the beast where they could easily lie back and sprawl out if they so desired.

 

He gestured for Chris to take a seat while he unpacked some of the food items from his satchel, setting the rest of the items off to the side to give to Waylon later. He began laying out some of the food, setting it out according to their usual portion sizes when he felt an intense heat against his back and Chris’ large presence rest behind him. The Minotaur’s legs were spread so Miles was positioned in his lap as strong hands gripped his shoulders. He froze in place, feeling Chris’ breath stirring up his hair into an even bigger mess and soft grunts rolling out of his chest. His nostrils’ flared as he rubbed the sides of his face against Miles’ neck and shoulders. His tongue lolling out and lapping at the nape of his neck, leaving a warm wet streak that had the shepherd tense. “Chris? What are you doing?” He turned his head and received a rather large tongue to the side of his face. He grimaced, closing his eyes to brace against the affection until he felt it was safe to open them again.

 

Chris’ hips rutted up against his back, causing his robes to bunch up uncomfortably as the hands moved from his shoulders down to his hips. The Minotaur shifted and had Miles practically bent over the table, his hands bracing the surface as it skirted into the wall. “Chris!” Miles spoke firmly, his tone was demanding and authoritative, forcing the beast to cease it’s movements.

 

Miles took a deep breath then twisted around in Chris’ grip. At first the Minotaur was hesitant to let him move that much, but an assertive gaze and the creature released his hips and let him adjust. His green eyes widened at the problem that caused all of this. The beast was aroused, the sizeable girth rising up out of the thick layers of tawny fur where it was now painfully obvious. From the swelling at the base of his arousal, Miles could tell he was far too pent up for it to be comfortable and figured it was only a matter of time when he couldn’t take it any longer. Though, the shepherd was a bit hesitant to the fact the Minotaur’s mate of choice was him. For the first time since they met, Chris’ gaze failed to meet his own. He reached up to cup the side’s of the beast’s face to reassure him that he wasn’t in trouble. His fingers rubbing at the soft spots underneath the droopy ears and drawing pleasant grunts from the creature’s chest. “Here, let me help you out with that.” He spoke in a careful gentle tone, gesturing for Chris to scoot back so they had more space.

 

Miles shifted so he was seated between Chris’ legs but kneeling on his own. The height and size difference between them made it awkward for him to get in a good enough position to work without the motions being awkward or any worry of splash back. He sighed when he was seated, relaxing back before he started to strip out of his robes, folding them up neatly and off to the side. This left him in only a pair of trousers that stopped just below his knees, making for easier movement with the rough and uneven terrain he had to climb daily.

 

He took a deep breath and offered the Minotaur a reassuring smile. He pressed his hands against the beast’s thighs and stroked his fingers through them in comforting gestures. Chris’ large Brown eyes were staring back at him, fixed on the shepherd with an intense desire. The tufts of fur on his back and around his shoulders seemed to have risen with his new arousal, giving him a fluffed up look. His nostrils flared in deep breaths and exhales, his torso expanding and retracting considerably. Miles assumed if he were to place his head against Chris’ chest, his heart would be racing. It was almost endearing in that aspect. That the beast had taken up enough of a fondness for him to go this far with their interactions, especially when he considered how anti-social and distant Chris was in the beginning. “It's alright. Just relax, big boy.” He smiled as his hands moved up the Minotaur’s thighs to his hips. Fingers dancing around the area the beast really wanted him to go on purpose.

 

He worked his way down, teasing that sensitive place until an impatient growl left Chris’ chest. “ **Miles.** ” It was a forceful sound that sent shivers through the shepherd, hearing the breathlessness of it underneath. He bit the inside of his lip as he conceded to the request. Using it as a form of praise for the beast speaking to him. His fingers curled around the heated length, taking note of the sheath of skin below which it had come from. Easily hidden beneath the thick coarse fur.

 

His grip was light at first, consisting of slow easy strokes until a pace was set and his motions became a bit more firm. He watched as Chris’ thighs shifted, hearing the hooves catch and scrape against the floor as his hips bucked up into his touch, trying to urge his strokes to go faster. Miles’ only smiled and kept his easy pace, working it out to get him going nice and good but holding off a bit so the end result will be much more complete. When Chris’ motions started to grow more frantic, grunts and groans leaving his chest in great heaves and sighs, Miles would slow his movements and stroke slowly, dragging each motion out. Chris would yowl in displeasure as he receded back to a less urgent state and was worked back up again. His nails digging into the floor and scraping across the stonework as he groaned, bucking more adamantly until he cried out again. **“Miles…!** ”

 

The shepherd seemed pleased with the response and increased his pace and firmness, working him right back up. The Minotaur groaned, his nostrils flaring as lips parted in deep panting breaths. His muscles rippling and quivering as he shuddered. The pent up fluids gushing out in an enormous amount, pooling over the shepherd’s hands and across Chris’ chest, soaking his fur in an intense thick heat. His hooves catching on the floor to find some form of leverage as Miles worked the last few drops out of him for good measure. Hips jerking at the sensitivity before he relaxed back. The shepherd grimaced at the mess and shook his hand clean a bit until he could find a towel to clean up and guide the beast to the bathing rooms.

 

After a good rinse in the bathing pools and a quick scrub of the floor in their sleeping quarters, Chris was melted into a pool of contentment atop the mound of pillows. His ears flicking happily as he greeted the shepherd with a hazy expression, still soaring from his relief. He snaked an arm around the human, pulling him firmly against his chest to resume their normally cuddled position. His breath stirring up the chocolate locks of the shepherds hair into a disheveled mess. His lips nuzzling at the crown of his head and leaving soft affections along the side of his face and neck. The shepherd was content with his head resting against the warm fuzzy shoulders of the beast, letting him nuzzle at him to his heart’s content. His own weariness from the day and the soothing ambient echoes of rain through the temple halls was enough to push him over into a gentle early afternoon nap.

  
  


 

 

Turns out, it wasn’t an isolated incident. Chris’ rutting and mounting behavior was becoming a problem and the sole focus was on Miles. Every time the shepherd had his back to the beast or he was lower on the ground then him while going through supplies for Waylon or sorting through offerings, the beast would follow him around and seemed to pounce at every opportunity. It was becoming ridiculous and the Minotaur had no shame in doing it in front of Eddie either. In fact, Miles realized, Eddie’s presence made it more likely to happen. As if Chris was displaying who exactly he belonged to and that Miles was off limits to the Naga.

 

The shepherd even had the misfortune of walking in on the beast rutting into his robes which had been neatly folded and set aside. Were now crumpled up into his hands and pressed firmly into an area the shepherd didn’t want to acknowledge. “Oh, come on! Chris!” Miles barked out in a stern tone filled with disbelief. The gesture startled the beast before it belted out a loud deep crooning noise and thoroughly soiled the fabric with his scent and seed.

 

The raucous activity drew the Naga’s attention from nearby to see just what kind of trouble the beast was into now and halted in his tracks in the doorway. Eddie’s face scrunched up in disgust, eyes narrowing on Chris dangerously. “I’m going to casssstrate him if thissss doessssn’t get handled ssssoon. He’ssss out of control.” The Naga hissed out, a low rumble in his chest, his scales seemed to expand as he made himself appear bigger upon locking eyes with Chris’ dazed brown orbs. Eddie reminded Miles of a pissed off cobra flexing it’s hood before striking. It was enough to jar him a bit as the Naga’s scowl was turned on him, those dark blue pools threatening to drag him in and under the creature’s spell before he turned and exited the room. The considerable length of his tail dragging along behind him down the hall in search of the blind man.

 

Miles released a deep sigh as he leveled a stare at the beast, watching as Chris’ body sank down into a pleasant and dreary haze. His torso expanding in great huffs with his tail and rear perched up in the air, still posted on his knees with his face and chest pressed into a pillow on the floor.The soiled robe was pinned between the large body and the ground. Miles’ hand ran over his face in a slow and exasperated gesture, one hand resting on his hip as he tried to figure out just how to wrangle the beast in. He certainly couldn’t offer up a substitute mate, since Chris seemed intent on him and anything that Miles’ owned. He sighed and wondered if maybe he could come up with a doll like substitute. “Maybe…” His eyes flitted towards the pile of pillows and a thought worked its way through.

  


 

 

Eddie’s displeasure seemed to increased when the shepherd materialized within his chamber with a request. There was a pile of old rags, some pieces of hide and a few damaged cushions that Eddie had discarded before. Miles had his arms full of the supplies, looking awkward as he gazed over the serpent and his best friend. Miles couldn’t tell if Waylon was asleep or not but he was wrapped up in Eddie’s long tail, his head resting on the Naga’s hip as the creature carded his talon’s gently through Waylon’s shaggy golden locks. His eyes were shut and the room was usually quiet for once. “What do you want?” Eddie hissed out quietly, his voice was low so as not to disturb the blind man’s slumber.

 

“I need to know if you can sew this for me. Waylon said you were good at fixing garments.” Miles explained as he held up the pile of material. “Please. It’s to fix Chris’ rutting problem.” He pressed, drawing a groan from the Naga as Eddie gave in. He held out a hand to receive the items and looked through them.

 

“What do you exxxxpect me to make from thissss?” He hissed out, his eyes roaming over the scraps and refuse with confusion. His gaze darting back up towards the shepherd and pinning him with those eyes. It made it incredibly hard for Miles to meet them, knowing the Naga’s newfound ability to hypnotize others, replacing the curse from before. The shepherd wasn’t really sure which he’d rather be under threat of in the end but he avoided that gaze the best he could.

 

“The stuffing from the cushions go inside with the fabric. The hide needs to wrap around it so its fluid resistant. But I need to be able to open it and close it to get to the fabric inside.” Miles explained, steepling his fingers together anxiously as he felt those eyes digging into him.

 

There was a low rumble in the naga’s chest before Eddie gave in and grunted. “Fine but thissss had better work.”

 

“I know. If it doesn’t, I’m shit out of luck.” Miles groaned, running his fingers through his hair to draw it back, only for the unruly brown locks to bounce back in front of his eyes.

 

“ _Well_ , you could alwaysssss offer him what he really wantssss.” Eddie hummed, already separating the material and getting to work. The very tip of his tail hooked a small pouch from off to the side by Waylon’s belongings and dragged it over to his reach where he found his sewing tools. “Jussssst let him mate with you. That sssshould ssssolve all our problemssss.”

 

Miles scoffed at that and shook his head. “If I do that, he’ll kill me.” He explained. Not because of Chris’ aggression. No, Chris was a gentle giant when it came to Miles. No matter how urgent or desperate he was, he never did anything to inflict direct harm to him. It was his sheer size down _there_ that Miles feared. Not even the most well used prostitute in the cities would be able to take that beast and live long.

 

“Nobody sssssaid _you_ had to take it.” Eddie hummed flatly. “He’ll roll over if he’sss desssperate enough. All beasssst do eventually when facccced with a dominant power.” He spoke idly, working away with skilled fingers as he eased through the fabric. He was careful and talented, working around his claws to maneuver the needle through the fabric. He strung up the rags into little balls filled with the same stuffing from the cushions. Miles watched as Eddie used his talons to break through the hide, folding the material over enough to seal it after weaving leather cording through the punctures. There was an opening at the end for Miles to work with so he could pull the little fabric balls out or return them when necessary and the rest of the space was filled to the brim with stuffing from the cushions. The strange object looked like a very odd and very large pillow by the time he was finished. Handing it back to Miles and giving him a quick shoo with his hand to send him off.

 

“Thank you!” Miles chirped as he raced out of the chamber to give the new product a try. But first, he had to smother it in his own scent to hide Eddie’s. He rubbed it all over himself, tucking it under his clothing and even rubbing his face against it. The rags within were saturated in Miles’ scent already being it was his own clothing that were just shreds now, made into dozens of little stuffed balls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, the object Miles makes for Chris is like a leather bean bag chair that Chris can rut against to his hearts' content.


	14. Crossroads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A storm is brewing.

The new toy worked, for a couple hours. Until Chris had rutted into it a couple times and quickly grew bored. Returning to grinding up against Miles’ back and rubbing up against him instead. The large tongue rolled out and left a slick trail up along his neck and through his hair, causing it to spike in different directions. When he turned to face the beast, prepared to scold him for his actions, he received another tongue to the face and a streak up into his hairline, leaving one portion of his bangs standing on end. He took a deep breath, wiped his face clean with his sleeve and let out a long exhale to relax and calm himself.

 

Chris’ ears flopped happily before he noticed the look Miles was giving him. They dropped back as his head ducked down with a deep crooning sound resonating from within his chest. Miles’ expression became more stern causing Chris’ gaze to avert those large brown eyes, glancing down instead. He shifted his massive bulk and laid down on the ground, resting his head against Miles’ thigh, the side with the broken horn facing the shepherd’s body. He gave soft grunts and whines to the human, those massive brown eyes turning up the slightest bit to meet Miles’ gaze briefly before looking back away. He repeated this action until Miles’ couldn’t hold his disapproval for long and gave in. He couldn’t stop his heart from melting at those big brown orbs.

 

He submitted to the soft sounds of the beast and curled his fingers through the mess of tousled tawny locks, stroking through the short bangs and carding his fingers through to the back. Soon trailing down Chris’ neck to the fuzzy curls of fur around his shoulders. The Minotaur’s tail wagged and swayed with his delight as he pressed closer to the shepherd, nuzzling at Miles’ midsection and chest.

 

For the rest of the day, Chris seemed to behave himself but soon the time came when Miles had to return to the village. Chris wasn’t very happy when he watched the shepherd pack his things up and start to leave. Miles tried to reassure him that he would return the next day with the villagers. But Chris was adamant he stay. It took two hours and Miles lulling the Minotaur to sleep before he was able to slip away in the night and make the long trek back down to the village.

 

He was exhausted by the time he got home, checking on his flock first to see if his neighbor had done as he asked. The goats were excited to see him and started to rouse from their pile to greet their caretaker. A few still had grain and corn on their muzzles and from the looks of it, his neighbor may have even spoiled them with apples and a handful of carrots that were going to rot soon. They were completely content and happy, making Miles feel a bit jealous about it but he was at ease knowing he had one less thing to stress over.

 

He was able to scurry his way to his hut and slip inside with enough time to get a few hours sleep before the sun rose and the villagers began to gather for their trek up the mountain.

  
  
  


Eddie was coiled up around his lover, both sleeping off another long night of passion together. Waylon wrapped up in the warmth of his coils with his head resting against his chest. The naga’s fingers resting where they stopped, carding through Waylon’s hair in gentle strokes before he dozed off as well. He was content and deeply wrapped in pleasant dreams of his lover when he was drawn out by unusual movement. He felt something shift his hand and when his blue eyes opened, he saw Waylon’s white milky gaze staring blankly in the distance, his brows furrowed in concentration. Eddie was about to speak when Waylon’s head whipped around to another direction, tilting to the side at an odd angle and it was then that Eddie realized, the blind man was listening.

 

Eddie’s sense of hearing was heightened as far as humans were concerned but that was no match for Waylon’s senses. The blind man shifted a bit in place, tilting his head in awkward and somewhat uncomfortable angles and directions as if he was trying to hone in on what was the problem. Finally after a minute of silence, his lips parted in a single word. “Chris.” He raised his arm and pointed out the door. His motions were weak and sluggish, showing the dredges of sleep were still claiming him and possibly even the exertion from the night before.

 

Eddie unwrapped his body from Waylon, substituting his warmth to lay Waylon’s robes over his body to keep him warm in his absence. He leaned down and kissed the blind man’s lips sweetly as he murmured. “I’ll be right back, darling.” Before turning and heading out the chamber door. His head whipped around in different directions, his long tongue extending to taste at the air when he caught what he was looking for. His nostrils flared as he neared the intersection where the halls split off into different directions. From there, Eddie could see the door to the Minotaur’s chamber was open and there was fresh scuffs in the stonework from the beast. Eddie picked up on the creature’s scent and followed it towards the hall of statues. He narrowed his vision and was able to make out the hulking silhouette of the beast as it made its way through the hundreds of statues towards the temple entrance. He cursed under his breath and slithered on after him.

 

The Minotaur was surprisingly quick once he reached solid ground. Instead of the careful uneasy steps he had to deal with on the polished stonework, his hooves could easily dig into the terrain as he worked his way down the path of the mountain. His nostrils flaring as he followed the scent of his human. He even picked up a bit of speed in his movement, working at a fine trot that forced the Naga to struggle to keep up. Eddie slithered on after the beast, dragging all of his coils behind him but he still didn’t seem to be making much ground. In a desperate action, he picked up a large tree trunk that had been snapped down by the storm and hoisted it up in the air before throwing it towards the beast. The trunk bounced behind the Minotaur, drawing Chris’ attention before it hit his legs from behind, knocking the out from under him and causing him to crash hard into the dirt.

 

Chris roared in anger, twisting around as he redirected his attention towards the naga. His nostrils flared in massive huffs with his chest before he scrambled back up and charged towards the serpent. Eddie swayed in place, weaving back and forth to avoid the beast’s horns but Chris had the upper hand. Eddie slipped and slid across the terrain but Chris dug in well and powered through as he slammed his whole body into the Naga.

 

Eddie’s talons gripped into Chris’ shoulders as he hissed out. “You sssstupid animal!” He cursed, gripping Chris tightly as his tail wrapped around his torso. Chris raised one of his hooves and slammed it down atop Eddie’s tail, pinning it in place and forcing a cry of pain from the serpent. Chris twisted his head and gouged his good horn into Eddie’s side, pressing hard to break through the thick scaly armor exterior. Eddie pushed back, gripping hard to keep the beast at a distance. With a last chance effort, he flicked a large portion of his tail like a whip and the weight was enough to blind side Chris to stumble and tip over. He crashed to the side and scrambled back up as Eddie slithered around to cut him off from going further down the mountain. Chris charged again but Eddie grappled at his horn, forcing his head back and slinging him over into a nearby tree trunk.

 

The tree, already struggling to stay up from the damage it received during the storm, toppled over with a loud groan then a snap as the wood blistered and broke. Chris scrambled away before it could land on him, in his alarm he took his eyes off the naga for a few seconds, giving Eddie enough time to wrap his coils around Chris’ torso, constricting hard enough for it to be uncomfortable but not to cause injury. His eyes setting on the Minotaur but Chris refused to meet the serpent’s gaze. Eddie cursed, reaching out with his claws and gripping the sides of his head firmly, forcing him to look until his spell could set in. The Minotaur started to slump in his grip, the bright eyed gaze dulled and glazed over and the beast’s head sunk to rest against his chest. Eddie sighed and turned towards the temple, set on dragging the beast half way back up the mountain.

  
  


As the early rays of dawn fell over the valley, the villagers started to stir from their beds and the early hustle and bustle of village life resumed where it left off the night prior. The people in the small encampment on the hill had already started their breakfast’s and were packing up their belonging to meet up at the designated place in the market square. Some of the businesses and a few farmers too busy with their work had stopped by early to deliver some goods and packs to Miles with a request that it be taken up to Waylon or placed on the altars in the prayer chamber.

 

It was surprising how, since the incident in town, the villagers had become far more accepting of the blind man. As if his new status as caretaker of the Temple dictated him as some for of messenger of the gods. Which, in a way it was. Between Eddie’s visions and the influences of the Temple, Waylon was a messenger between the people and the real voice of the gods. But the blind man would always brush it off as just doing his duties and what he loves most. It was that fact that made Miles proud of his friend. Of what’s he’s become after so many years of hardship. It was the happy ending the blind man rightly deserved.

 

He waited some time in the market until the sun was clear in the sky and most of the shadows had vanished from the mountain side showing the day had really started to begin and the weather was only going to grow warmer. The last few stragglers finally joined from the encampment, including the pair of hunters. They appeared to have added a few new companions, decked out in the same dark leather armor and carrying several different weapons that seemed closer to mercenaries then actual hunters. He didn’t linger long on the idea as they started the trip up before it could get any warmer.

 

The sun was beating down on their backs, relentless as they trailed up the open rocky terrain and trails. It wasn’t until about halfway up when they reached the denser forest and brush. As they moved on, there was a cry out from one of the villagers, the cluster of women at Miles’ back giving a start. “By the gods! What happened here?”

 

Miles was confused by this as he looked up ahead. The path was a mess, compared to what he had seen when he left. There was a tree blocking a portion of the path and the dirt had been kicked up everywhere. “It was probably from the storms.” Miles offered as an excuse while he stopped the group. “I’m going to need a few men to help me move the tree before we continue.” He announced, gesturing towards the disruption in the trail. A handful of farmhands and young men stepped forward along with the cluster of hunters from the back. They were all well built compared to the lean young boys who took position. Miles winced as their eyes gazed over the mess in the landscape. Once they were positioned, Miles counted down and they heaved the trunk off to the side of the path, letting it fall into the treeline with the dense foliage. He sighed and stepped back, wiping the small droplets of sweat from his forehead.

 

His emerald eyes  flitted over towards the figures still standing by the tree and he noticed the man plucking thick tawny colored fur from the bark. It was only about an inch or so long and there was a few different tufts caught in the rough exterior. Another nudged their companion and gestured with a nod towards a mess of tracks. Long strokes and disruptions in the soil from a serpent like form. The ground storm softened earth was displaced leaving little mounds and ridges. A few places, the marks of scales could be seen imprinted in the mud. Beside that was the deep hoof marks of a beast. Separated into a single set of two with drag marks and indentations where a fight had ensured. The group of villagers were startled by it and a rush of murmurs and whispers filled the crowd. Mentions of the Minotaur from across the valley and the Naga of the Temple. The hunters seemed to cue into this, causing a dreaded shiver down Miles back.

 

“It’s alright! Everybody calm down.” He raised his hands to hush the crowd, trying to corral them in. “We need to get up to the Temple, okay? It’s safer in the Temple then being all the way out here.” He tried to appeal to their senses and insecurities. It seemed to work as they all huddled together and started moving once more. Miles sighed, finding his flock of goats were easier to navigate and guide then the cluster of people. He especially had to keep his eye on the group of men lingering in the back.

  


Miles had trouble finding a way to distance himself from the villagers once they reached the temple. They were spooked by what they had seen on the mountain path and their anxiety only seemed magnified within the temple as they spent more time gossiping and fretting then actually praying. When he did get a moment, it was with Waylon but it was brief as the hunters lurked the halls, eyeing the surroundings as if they expected the Minotaur or the Naga to drop down from the ceiling or to appear amidst the statues. Waylon gave a curt explanation that Chris had left the Temple to go looking for Miles and that there was a scuffle. That for the time being, Eddie had the Minotaur on lock down until nightfall.

 

Miles felt a tight clenching feeling in his gut when Waylon leaned closer and murmured. “Eddie wants to have a talk with you.”  The shepherd felt his chest grow tight, his voice failing to reach his lips as he hummed his understanding. Waylon raised a hand and rest it on Miles’ back, working his way up to his shoulders, feeling out the tension in his friend’s body. “It’s going to be alright, Miles. Whatever it is, I’m sure we’ll figure it out. I promise.”

 

There was a brief silenced as Miles nodded then finally was able to make himself speak. “I know Waylon.” He placed his hand on the blind man’s shoulder and gave him an appreciative squeezed. Waylon took that gesture as an invitation and pulled Miles into a firm embrace that the shepherd could melt into. Miles rested his head on the blind man’s shoulder as Waylon hushed soft reassurances to help ease the shepherd’s worries and fears.

 

“We’ll get through this.” Waylon murmured into Miles’ ear, feeling the soft trembles rising in Miles’ form.


	15. The Hunter and The Hunted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miles finds there's more in the mountains then he's bargained for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter gets crazy. Also, I was ecstatic when the chapter reached a good intensity and the song Seven Nation Army came on on my playlist just as Eddie made his entrance. It was the most badass thing ever with perfect timing. 
> 
> The art piece showcased in this chapter is by @Zeck143 from tumblr who did a nice smutty piece of everyone's favorite soft boy! (I LOVE IT! Fuzz Fuzz Fuzz!!)

 

 

 

It was a relatively short return to the village after the Temple visit. Many of the people were eager to get back home where it was safe, the disturbing view on the way up reignited their fears on the way down and added haste to their travel. Miles was relieved as it gave him plenty of time left in the day to tend to his flock. The billy goat was excited to see him as he opened the pens and led them back out to the grassy field. They rushed up on him, bleating excitedly for his affection to which he easily gave in and slipped into his usual routine. He was relieved that the next several days, the local trapper will be guiding the villagers up the mountain which meant he had plenty of free time to travel to and from to see Chris after tending to his animals.

 

The day was long and even hotter as afternoon turned to evening. By the time the sun started to set, it finally began to cool down, allowing a reprieve as he guided his herd back to their pens. All of them seemed pleased with the outing and eager to lock up for the night. He spent an hour or so in his hut, waiting until darkness was near before he worked his way through the grey hours of daylight towards the forest at the base of the mountain. From there, it was a steady climb up the path. He was forced to stop a few times for a break, finding the days were wearing away at him with all the activity. He feared at this rate, his age was going to start showing. Between Waylon and now Chris, it was a wonder he didn’t have a head full of grey hairs already.

 

He sighed, took a few drinks from his waterskin and continued his way up the mountain, reaching the area where the scuffle had happened. He felt a tight clenching sensation in his stomach as his eyes roamed over the mess the pair had caused. The deep hoof prints were still embedded into the earth and the trails from Eddie’s tail were clear as day. He combed his fingers through his hair, drawing them clear of his face, eager to reach the temple and looking forward to a nice long soak in the bathing pools with Chris. He felt disgusting after the long day and just wanted a bit of down time. Hopefully, he could dodge Eddie until after the bath.

 

As he continued on up the path, he felt something off. There was light rustling in the woods and the feeling of eyes settled on him. His footsteps quickened, fearing that wolves may be lurking in the area. With everything going on, he had completely forgotten how dangerous it was out in the mountains at night. His steps quickened again when he heard the snap of a branch, driving him into a full sprint. There was the sound of something chasing after him but he didn’t dare look back. A deep snarl wound its way through the night air followed by another low growl flanking him from the other side. He stumbled along the path, nearly tripping on one of the dips in the ground from Chris and Eddie’s altercation. He went down, throwing a hand out in front of himself, he caught his balance and lunged forward but it was too late. The slight stumble was all it took for the beasts to pounce. He felt the air knocked out of him as three massive bodies rammed into him. A set of jaws locking into his leg.

 

Miles felt searing hot pain in his calf as he screamed out into the night. Being this high up into the mountains, no one in the village could hear him. He twisted in place, his emerald eyes darting up and met the dark cold eyes of three massive dogs bearing down on him. “Shit-ack! AHHH!” Miles’ struggles and movements only gained more pain as the dog holding his leg continued to rip into his calf, tugging and pulling for good measure to prevent him from getting away. The other two shifted between ripping at his clothing and the edges of his robes and pawing at him furiously, using their weight to pin him down further. Their nails leaving deep scratches in his exposed skin. His heart was racing as he tried to find something to fend them off with, searching for something he could reach. Almost wishing it were wolves he was facing. Wolves would go for the kill, quick and easy. But wild dogs play with their food and were far more dangerous.

 

His fingers grabbed for the dirt, trying to find purchase as he reached out blindly for anything he could find when a voice filled the air. It was vaguely familiar but he couldn’t quite place it. “It’s a little late for praying, isn’t it? Temple’s closed boy.” The voice was strong and sharp, holding a razor edge to it. The kind that reminded Miles of danger. People with too much power and confidence. Much like the Priest that was hurting Waylon.

 

He opened his mouth to speak, shifting just enough to try and spot where the voice was coming from, but the dogs returned the action with a harder jerk and pull on his leg. He cried out again, feeling like his knee was going to pop out of place or the flesh was going to tear off. His eyes blurred as he struggled through the pain. The dark silhouette of the figure came into view, walking out of the shadows of the treeline. The same rough leather armor with a bow on their back. Miles caught the glint of the broken horn hanging from their fingers. The man smirked. “Those dogs were looking for one scent and one scent only.” His lips drew up into a devilish smile. A head of dark hair drawn back into a casual ponytail, keeping a neat gathering of the dark locks out of his face. Another figure stepped up by his side, an older man with long silver hair tied up into a haphazard man bun. He had a hand resting on the hilt on one of a pair of short swords hanging on his hips.

 

There was a sharp whistle from the silver haired man as the canines heeled at their master’s side. The one holding onto Miles’ leg refused to budge as the dark haired hunter approached, swaying the broken horn in front of Miles’ face. “My dogs say you smell like that beast.” Miles’ tensed up, his eyes going wide before he hissed sharply as the dog’s jaws seemed to chomp down harder on his leg. He could taste blood on his tongue as the pain jolted up his leg, muscles burning and cramping from every pull. His fingers buried into the dirt. There was a hand cupping Miles’ jaw, nails digging into his cheek as dark steely blue eyes darted up towards the temple path then back to Miles. “I see. Is that where it’s been hiding all this time?”

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Miles grunted out, his jaw clenched tightly as the dog gave another snarl in warning. He groaned as the hunter’s eyes narrowed on the shepherd.

 

“I hear you’re really close with the blind man in the Temple.” The hunter carried on, seeming to ignore Miles’ words. He tucked the horn back, tying it to his belt like before where it hung like a proud trophy. It made Miles sick to his stomach to think about, that this man could have done those terrible things to Chris. “I also heard that a Naga came down from this very mountain, cursed the people and took that boy away to the Temple.”

 

“The people sacrificed him to the serpent like he was some lamb to bait wolves with!” Miles protested with a snarl on his lips. “They deserved what was coming to them.” He snapped. “Don’t _you_ **dare** come here thinking you know what we’ve been through. What anyone here has been through.” Miles' words were spit out like venom as he pushed on, despite the disapproving look the hunter was giving him. He matched it with a sharp rebellious gaze of his own. “Down there, you’ll only hear their side of the story and it is shrouded in lies as they play the victims. They _crucified_ Waylon. They shunned him and left him to die. They sent him up there hoping the Naga will end _their_ suffering by taking _his_ life!”

 

There was a pause of silence as Miles’ chest heaved in deep breaths of the thin chilly mountain air. The hunter seemed displeased, brows furrowed before his grip tightened more painfully, slamming Miles’ head back into the dirt and mud. "I’m sorry, but did I ask for your opinion?” He pressed closer to Miles so they were eye to eye. Miles could feel the heat of the hunter’s skin on his, his breath hot against the cooling droplets of sweat accumulating on his neck. “I’m only here for the monster.”

 

“Hey, Jer…” The silver haired man’s voice piped up before the dog started to snarl. There was rustling in the treeline up ahead as something massive was moving about. A pair of eyes glowing in the shadows. A deep tantalizing blue. The hunters cursed, keeping their heads tilted down as the silver haired man whistled, setting the dogs after the beast. They rushed forward, met with the snap of a long tail whipping out of the treeline. The dogs yelped and whimpered, knocked to the side and across the path. They sprawled out before trying to get up again, growling but their intensity was dampened. The creature slithered out of the shadows to reveal the sleek black scaly form of the Naga.

 

Eddie loomed dangerously, his massive form coiling up, prepared to strike. Muscle and scales rippling and quivering as he built up tension. His tongue flickered out as he swayed and swerved. The pair of dogs were back up, snarling and snapping their jaws at the creature in an attempt to scare him. Eddie’s jaws unlocked, dropping open with inhuman size as a deep monstrous howl left his chest. It made Miles’ blood run cold as all he saw was fangs and glowing eyes. It was like a beast was sent forth from the underworld, a being that lurked only in the darkest recesses of one’s nightmares. The dogs backed down, whimpering and yelping as they turned and raced off down the mountain path. The hunters were tense as Eddie’s wild eyes fixed on them. The dog holding Miles in place remained where it was, teeth still sunk deep into the shepherd’s leg but it too cowered in fear of the beast, pressing it’s belly to the ground, giving anxious and frightened growls and whimpers.

 

“Guess I have to do everything myself.” The dark haired hunter withdrew his bow as he whistled. From the shadows a series of arrows sprung forth, hitting Eddie from all angles. The naga hissed and swatted the arrows away, what few did manage to stick into his scales were quickly broken off as he slithered towards the hunters with a deep snarl. The dog holding Miles down yelped and released its hold, turning tail and running towards its other companions. The shepherd took the chance and rolled to the side, fingers digging into the dirt as he crawled across the ground towards the cover of the trees. A scream erupted from his chest as the silver haired hunter planted a foot firmly against his wounded leg. His blades were drawn and aimed at Miles back, the tip of one was pressed against his spine in warning, the edge of the other met the shepherd’s throat, keeping him from moving an inch.

 

Amidst the flurry of arrows, there were a handful that launched ropes out towards the naga. The more Eddie swatted and slithered around, they seemed to wrap around his coils, catching and pulling. He hissed and swung his tail around to flick them away when he was broadsided by a heavier netted object. The cold bite of chains wrapped around his torso, large iron balls grappling around him in an entanglement of chains, restricting his movement. His talon’s fought to rip the iron net off as he bucked and jerked in varying directions. “Don’t meet it’s gaze!” The dark haired hunter blurted out as the rest of his companions emerged from the treeline to subdue the Naga. Their arrows set on the beast while a few smaller more agile members darted around Eddie, pinning him down to the ground with large leather straps. They closely resembled horse saddles but were meant to buckle his tail down to the earth.

 

He slithered and weaved to try to avoid them, some portions of his body were able to swing over onto the hunters that got too close. One of which ended up crying out as his leg was pinned under the beast’s weight. Another caught Eddie’s talons, raking across his torso as a few ended up tearing across the skin on his neck and face. There was blood in the air, making the Naga’s nostrils flare at the scent. Something snapped in him as his efforts increased in their attempts at freedom, very nearly getting the netting off when a sharp pain spread in his side. Eddie cried out, looking down at the blade penetrating where scales faded out to flesh. The dark haired hunter smirked as he smashed a vial against Eddie’s side over the wound, letting a yellowish liquid seep down and enter the laceration.

 

The naga roared angrily, reaching out with his free hand to dig his talons into the hunter’s shoulder. They pierced the leather, working their way to the skin. The hunter gritted his teeth, driving the blade deeper into the Naga’s body until it reached the hilt. He worked it back and forth to widen the wound. Eddie’s grip faltered with another cry out, his fangs bared with a snarl as he snapped at the hunter, lifting him up and throwing him back into the ground. Whatever the substance was, Eddie could feel it setting into his system. His body sank back, lowering to the ground as he struggled to keep focus. His extensive tail already pinned in place by half a dozen leather saddles. His free hand cupped the injury on his side, talons raking across the scales and skin in a pitiful attempt to make it go away. His gaze locking with Miles’ emerald orbs, the fear reflected back in them between the two men was unspoken but resonated deeply.

 

Miles was forced to watch as the light in the naga’s eyes faded out to a dull haze before slipping shut. His head sank to the ground with a sickening thump. The rest of the hunters diverged upon him like scavengers as they placed a thick leather hood over Eddie’s head, covering his eyes. There was a muzzle like object attached to keep him from biting, all of which was secured by straps that locked in place around an iron collar placed at his throat. The net was removed completely as they shackled the Naga’s wrists together behind his back. The saddles were released from the ground but interlocked to create one large harness that bunched Eddie’s tail up into a tightly wound coil.

 

They brought up a pair of oxen pulling a large wagon fitted as a massive iron cage. It looked like the same kind used to transport prisoners of war from the battlefields or in some places, slaves. This one was repurposed for capturing prey. They linked chains up to the saddles and dragged them through the openings in the cage until Eddie was inside. His torso was chained to the wall, held up and secured so he couldn’t move a limb. His head hanging uncomfortably, muzzle pressed against his chest. His tail was forced inside behind him.

 

Miles ended up being shackled and locked into an adjacent smaller cage. This one was more obvious with the dog fur everywhere and the smell of drool seeped into the woodwork. The hunters cleaned up their equipment and started their trek down the mountain, aiming to get past the town before dawn broke. Miles’ eyes stared up at the distant firelight of the Temple entrance. The pyres flickering as the night resumed its silence. He could only imagine what must be going through Waylon’s head. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that the blind man had heard all of that.


	16. A Sight For Sore Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie and Miles face captivity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Things are starting to wind up. There's still a few chapters to go so keep up! 
> 
> Thank you all for the comments with each chapter. It helps motivate me and if you have any thoughts or questions, please feel free to ask down below. I look forward to seeing messages in my inbox. Like seriously, I refresh that thing like a few dozen times a day. It's crazy. But I love hearing feedback from you all. Thank you so so so much! 
> 
> Enjoy!

The hunters had taken the pair back to their encampment where the stone foundation of the old cottage rose up from the earth. Years of wear and tear had toppled much of it and the wilds started to reclaim it for themselves. The storms had the soil creeping up over the debris, remnants of charred wood and rusted old iron utensils were scattered about. Whatever else was salvageable was long gone as people picked through the remains. A small ways back, where a tree used to be, now the stump lingers, cut down after a lightning strike, there were two small piles of stones sitting atop the earth. One a little bigger than the other. 

 

The hunters seemed to be using the area to sit around and drink booze at, their bottles and canteens sitting around it with lumber chunks beneath them. Miles’ stared out at the hunters as they passed by, seeming to ignore their presence now that they were all in the encampment. A lot of the villagers that had been present in the beginning were gone and what few the shepherd did recognize turned out to be a part of the hunting party as well. 

 

The shepherd scowled as he watched the men tromp around the stump without a care. His body growing more tense the longer he had to endure the sight, pressing up against the bars of his cage, his fingers curled around the iron until his knuckles were white. He gritted his teeth as one of the men tipped their drink over, spilling their noxious booze all over the stump and onto the rocks. “Get the fuck away from there you bastards!” Miles snarled before he could stop himself. His eyes fixed angrily on the three hunters who turned in surprise to look at him. One of which was the silver haired man, whom Miles caught through snippets of conversation, was named Trager. 

 

His sharp grey eyes locked with Miles’ meeting the emerald gaze with amusement as he approached. “Eh? What was that buddy?” He pressed, sauntering over towards the cage with a lazy roll in his motions as if he was already considerably sauced by the foul smelling alcohol. The stench clung to him as he leaned towards the bars, meeting eye level with the shepherd, lips drawing up into a sleazy smile, a dare playing in his expression, urging Miles to say it again. 

 

“You heard me.” Miles growled. “Can’t you see, those are someone’s graves you’re standing on, you dirty bastards.” He spit out. 

 

“Oh yeah. I see.” He scoffed, his hand reaching out in a quick motion, far too fast for Miles to react as it pinned his hands to the bars, squeezing them painfully tight to the point Miles feared it would crush one of his fingers. The man’s nails dug in to cement their hold. “Now, I know-” Trager paused for a moment, giving a quick sniff and cleared his throat, hacking a loogie off to the side before continuing. “-that you, you little goatman, have quite a history in this town. Hm?” He pressed, giving a tug on Miles’ hands, dragging his nails across the back of his knuckles, breaking skin. “For a shepherd, you’ve got quite the reputation. Your little blind friend aside and all.” 

 

Miles pulled against the man’s hold but he refused to let go of the shepherd as he continued. “Sssshhh, ssshhh. It’s alright. Just listen.” He hushed, the tone was uncomfortably gentle before turning back. The smell of alcohol permeated the air, making his nostrils burn with every breath. Miles coughed, turning his head away but his eyes never left that steely cold gaze. There was something in them, something dangerous that told him not to turn away. That it would only get worse, like putting his back to a pack of wolves. “This little heap of rubble we’re standing on, the villagers know all about it and seemed quite happy to inform us with very little persuasion needed.” He hummed, giving a goofy little look as if that was somehow a shock to him. “People like to talk, especially when you get a little lubrication going in their system.” He nodded towards the strong alcohol the other two were actively working through. 

 

Miles scrunched up his nose at the gesture and tried to pull away again. This time it worked, but it lasted only a few seconds before the hunter reached through the bars and snatched him by the wrists. His hold was painfully tight as he pulled Miles back through, forcing his face to be rammed up against the side bars, chest pressing into it as he was sunk to his knees at the action, pain spreading up his leg as his wound was jostled. A cry left Miles’ lips, stifled by the tight clenching of his jaw. There was the cold pinching of shackles locking over his wrists and keeping him firmly in place, freeing up one of the hunter’s hands to grip the shepherd’s jaw. “You played a nice little life, with a sweet little housewife and had a sweet little baby boy.” The hunter smirked, gesturing towards the two mounds as he continued. “But tragedy struck. Apparently  _ somebody _ wasn’t in the gods’ favor.” He taunted Miles as he jerked his head, forcing him to face more directly, closing in until they were nose to nose. “You sheltered that blind man for a long time. Even before the trouble began. You even defended him when he was sent to the mountain and after that beast-” He pointed a long bony finger towards Eddie in the adjacent cage. “-sent him back. You watched as it cursed them all and came to reclaim the boy. Even helped them escape the village after the attack.” His voice mused at the peculiar behavior of a simple mortal shepherd.

 

“Then the Minotaur comes this way, its trail leading right to the very same field you herd your flock through. It mysteriously vanishes after that. Soon after, the villagers made mentions of seeing suspicious activity. The shepherd going up to the temple for a few days at a time, leaving his flock for someone else to tend to.” His raised a brow at Miles, jerking on his wrists to bump his head up against the bars again causing Miles to wince. “That’s mighty unusual, don’t you think?”

 

He gave a few teasing sniffs of the shepherd and chuckled dryly. “Even smell like the beast.” He squawked. “Maybe…” He trailed off, letting go of Miles’ jaw as he held the shackles tightly, raising them up for the shepherd to see his hands. Slender fingers pulling one of Miles’ out at a painful angle drawing a sharp groan from his throat. “Maybe if I take a few of these off, the beast’ll come a runnin to save its shepherd. Or maybe, we can feed you to it like a lil snack.”

 

Miles scoffed, shaking his head. “He don’t eat meat, so good luck with that one.” He pulled at his hands, drawing his fingers back into a tight fist once the hunter let go. 

 

Trager’s free hand reached out to Miles, causing the shepherd to flinch, half expecting him to snatch him back up. Instead, the touch was surprisingly gentle, ghosting through his brunette locks and drawing them out of his face, a look of pity on his expression. “When hungry enough, a beast will eat anythin for survival. Even the corpse of its loved ones. It’s best not to underestimate a monster.” He let go of Miles all at once as he belted out a sickeningly sweet laugh and tottered off towards another gathering of hunters in search of more alcohol. The words spoken still ringing through Miles’ ears with a gut wrenching fear, he could almost feel the bile rising up in his throat, forcing him to swallow it down with the hard lump that replaced it. 

  
  
  
  


As the night wore on, Miles’ leg injury was tended to by the same silver haired hunter who was even more drunk than before. He stumbled about, tripping up on air and slurred his words but Jeremy, the head hunter in the group, had administered an order that Miles was taken care of. This resulted in the silver haired man, who apparently had some form of medical training, dumping half a bottle of the rotting booze on his leg. Miles’ screams could be heard clear throughout the fields and possibly even making their way to the village until a hand clapped over his face and he was forced down to the ground. His wrists pulling painfully from the tension as they remained locked to the sides of the cage. The silver haired hunter was straddling his hips as he hushed him repeatedly, even long after the shepherd had fallen silent. 

 

His silver eyes roaming over him lazily with a look that bordered on hungry. His thumbs swiped away at the tears that slipped free of the shepherd’s eyes, his fingertips trailing along the curve of his cheek bones as he purred. “Poor lot, ya got. I’d ‘ve loved to take ya fer me-self. But yer as good as dog food at this point.” He gave a harsh pat to the side of his cheek that was easily more of a slap. Miles’ breath caught in his throat as the man pushed himself to his feet, nearly falling back on top of him again before he pulled the keys free of his belt and released on of Miles’ wrists. He pulled the shepherd’s hands back inside the cage and locked them back together again. 

 

He raised the bottle to Miles’ lips, half intending to dump the vile substance on him in a pitiful attempt to make him drink it only for a few droplets to fall to the shepherd’s cheek. “Fuck! I’m all-out..” His words dragged as he stumbled back out of the cage, staring blankly at the bottle, letting it drop near the entrance as he stopped outside the Naga’s cage, giving a lazy bow that nearly had him toppling head over to the ground. Trager managed to catch himself as he slurred out. “Yer majesteee..” He pushed himself back upright with a grumbled, “Pish posh..” under his breath before stumbling off towards the sleeping tents. 

 

Miles took a shaky breath as he waited for his heart to cease it’s racing, the ache of it slamming into his ribs resonated deeply. His emerald eyes blinked blearily with a moment’s confusion before his thoughts started to catch back up. He remembered the stories, about the Naga once being a proud human prince. That he fell to greed and vanity, angering the gods’ in his actions and explorations. That he was the one who defiled the temple and who set about the misfortune to befall the land. There were many different variations to the story but the main points always stayed the same. It took a few minutes for the shepherd to muster his nerve enough to speak, hoping the Naga wasn’t too angry with him.

 

“Is it true? That you used to be a prince?” Miles asked softly, staring through the bars of his cage towards Eddie. There was silence, it extended for a minute or so, making Miles think the Naga was asleep, until there was movement. The stirring of his tail, the slight flick of the tip and the soft hiss rumbling out like a tired groan.

 

Eddie shifted in the restraints, his tail fighting the leather bindings for some semblance of comfort before he gave in with a deep weary sigh. “Yesss. It isss true.” His head tilted to the side, to address Miles’ inquiries. It was frustrating with the mask over his face to be able to read out the other's expressions. His tongue flickered within the muzzle before he continued, his words were stifled by the tight contraption around his head. “But my Kingdom hasss long ssssinccce fallen to ruin. Without me there, war hasss reclaimed it.”

 

There was a pause from the shepherd, broken only by the soft rustling of his chains. “Do you ever miss it? Being a Prince and all?” Miles had half a mind to move for his own comfort but feared to stir up the pain in his leg again. The alcohol made it numb in a way that was concerning. 

 

“I do, every now and then. I did very much before I met Waylon.” He explained softly, his body wriggling in the cramped confines of the cage. “He hassss sssshown me many delightsss in thissss life. He hasss taught me sssso much that four ccccenturiessss had failed to do. He isssss a very admirable sssssoul.”

 

“He is.” Miles agreed. “If it wasn't for him, my life would have ended years ago. He gave me a purpose. He reminded me of what I'm good at. What the gods created me to do.” He gazed down sadly at his hands, calloused and rough from years of field work and tending to his flock. It was hard work but it gave him a reason to get out of bed every day. It gave him something to look forward to. It made him feel necessary again even when the world was void of the two things he cherished most. Waylon gave him the strength to keep going. 

 

There was a hum from Eddie in affirmation before a deep sigh followed, but it wasn’t tired. More forlorn, or yearning in a way. “Oh, how I wisssshhh I could have ssssshown him my palaccce.” Eddie smiled fondly behind the muzzle, his blue eyes closed as he reminisced. “It wasss masssssive with the besssst cooksss the land could offer. It wassss beautiful and ssssserene.”

 

“You know, it would have been useless even if you could.” Miles stated with a sigh. “Waylon isn’t the kind to be influenced by materialistic things.”

 

“Oh, believe me, I know.” Eddie chuckled. “It took sssssome time to get ussssed to the fact he wassss blind. I’d keep forgetting he can’t see the divinitiessss of the temple.” He huffed, remember how many times he’d start to share something he thought was pretty or looked nice with Waylon only to realize the man couldn’t see it. “But I’d do anything to ssssshow him my garden. Even without his ssssight, it wasssss a placcce that one could feel sssso at eassse. The fountainssss and the flowerssss with their ssssweet ssssscentssss. The warmth of the sssssun on your back. The tropical birdsss sssssinging in the boughs and the fruit that grew from thosssse branches. There issss nothing sssssweeter in thissss land.” Of course, Eddie may have been embellishing a bit of the details but he did miss his home. He missed being human. He wished he could be like Miles, free to roam wherever he pleased instead of being forced to stay within the temple. It was unfair to Waylon when there was so much more to the world then daily prayers and lighting candles.

 

“I jusssst want the besssst for him. Clothessss that aren’t ragssss and a real bed and real food. He doessssn’t need to live like a dog on the sssstreetssss anymore.” Eddie’s shoulders dipped down with a defeated look, his body sagging in the restraints.

 

“You and I both know that even with that option before him, he would choose the temple every time. He would choose this life, with you, every time.” Miles pointed out with a warm smile on his lips, offering reassurance to the Naga. Eddie’s head raised at the words, a slow nod of agreement as he let out a long knowing hiss. Eddie wouldn’t admit it aloud, but hearing those words made his heart jump in his chest and brought a warmth to his face. He closed his eyes and imagined the blind man’s hands cupping his cheeks and nuzzling against him as they coil up together in their tranquil little chamber on the mountain. ‘ _ It’s not a palace, but its still got the best view in the world.’  _ The naga hummed pleasantly.


	17. Dog Eat Dog World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris and Waylon are on their way. Miles has to fight for survival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And another chapter is up and with it is everyone's stress levels as the minutes tick by and our heroes struggle to make it through. 
> 
> Please leave a comment down below of what you think, any thoughts, questions or outrage is welcome. 
> 
> Enjoy!

“Chris.” Waylon murmured, rubbing at his eyes, nudging away the puffy redness that accumulated with the tears that seemed to not stop falling. He sniffled, making his way to the Minotaur’s side and feeling around until he found the heavy arm. His fingers fumbling with the chains that wrapped around his forearms, tugging on them as he repeated his words, trying to put a little more power behind them. He had heard it, all of it. Miles’ screams. Eddie’s roar. The anger and the pain. He heard the hunters yelling and hollering in between as they claimed their prize. “Chris, you gotta wake up.” His hands were shaking as he gave the larger male’s arm another firm tug.

 

Eddie’s spell was stronger this time, it took a lot to make the Minotaur rouse from his unconscious state. Waylon had been trying, for hours to wake him. He had been calling out for him but was far too overwhelmed by his own sorrows. He was petrified of what could be happening to Eddie or Miles at the moment. “Chris! Please! Wake up-”

 

Waylon felt the shift, the weight moving before he was knocked off balance and toppled back to the ground. His legs were weak, weary from the long day and what strength he had left in him was sapped out from his emotions.

 

There were deep confused grunts from the beast as the dazed brown eyes stirred from the Naga’s spell. They blinked blearily, glancing around the room and the darkness where the firelight from the sconces failed to reach. His eyes turned down to see the blind man, unattended by the serpent, curled up on the floor with tears in those white wispy eyes. The beast felt a deep dread fill his chest as he knelt down to Waylon. His hands were gentle on blonde’s shoulders, applying a soft comforting pressure that invited Waylon closer. The blonde reached out and curled his fingers into the fuzz on the Minotaur’s shoulders, gripping at his chest with his other hand and working his way through to _‘see’_ the other. **“Miles..?”** The beast grunted out, a low rumble in his chest. Waylon’s stifled sniffling broke into a hard sob, securing what Chris had been fearing.

 

“Eddie tried to stop them. He tried to save Miles but they were overwhelmed. I don’t know what happened.” Waylon managed between deep gasps and broken sobs.

 

 **“Who?”** The Minotaur asked.

 

“Hunters I think. There were dogs barking and a lot of yelling.” Waylon shifted as the Minotaur’s hold grew tighter around his form, offering a comforting embrace to his mate’s closest friend. “I think they went down the mountain.”

 

There was a grunt of understanding as the Minotaur waited for the smaller blind man to calm down. He shifted in place, his hooves scraping across the floor as he pushed up, lifting Waylon into his arms as he went. “Wha- where are you going?”

 

 **“Miles.”** Chris answered with a grunt, moving Waylon around as he urged him to climb up on his back. **“Hold on.”** His words were rough but Waylon understood, wrapping his arms around the Minotaur’s shoulders and holding on for dear life. It was different from when he would ride on Eddie’s shoulders or tail. It was much harder to hold onto the thick muscle and broad shoulders. Where as Eddie’s coils could bunch up and support his body. His arms were the only thing keeping him from slipping off and he couldn’t get his legs around Chris’ waist enough for it to matter. The Minotaur offered a slight boost, holding onto Waylon’s thighs to keep him from sliding down too much.

 

He buried his face into the thick coarse fur of his shoulders and held on tight as Chris made his way down the mountain and towards the town.

 

 

  
  


Miles was restless by the time the sun came up and started settling into the sky. There was no shade up there on the hill, with the massive tree gone, they were exposed to the elements. Eddie’s own body seemed to melt beneath the bright rays. The black scales that covered his body held a bluish hue to them. The white underbelly and splotches of scales throughout his tail pattern were near blinding in the light. Reflecting it back at the shepherd and forcing him to turn away. Miles groaned as he moved his wounded leg, giving it a mournful look. The alcohol from the night before kept it clean and stopped any infection from forming but the flies were already after him. He managed to tear the fabric from his shredded robe and wrapped it around his calf to keep the insects away.

 

There was a low rumble in the Naga’s chest, forming like a feline purr that drifted out softly. His chest rose and fell in slow breathes, his form surprisingly relaxed to the point Miles was worried until he gave the sun another glance. It was warm beneath those rays and he could only imagine how good that must feel to the serpent. For the first time all night there was no tension in the harness that held his tail in place. The shepherd’s inspection of the Naga was interrupted by a harsh voice, raspy from overuse and nasally as the silver haired hunter scowled over his beaky nose at the male. “Hey buddy! Time fer feeding!” He grunted out, drawing the shepherd’s gaze to the bloodshot dull grey orbs glaring at him. He could only assume the man was suffering from a furious hangover right now.

 

Miles was hesitant to follow as the silver haired hunter unlocked the cage door and entered the back. The shepherd drew away from the man’s approach, pressing his back into the wall as he held his hands up protectively. Trager let out a bark of laughter at the pitiful gesture, snatching him up by the shackles on his wrists and hauling him to his feet. Miles gasped, putting weight on his wounded leg drew a stifled cry from his chest as he was pulled out of the back as the hunter muttered. “Just walk it off.”

 

Miles did the best he could as he stumbled along behind the hunter, half dragged by Trager if he didn’t limp fast enough to keep up. There was a raucous of conversation as they were guided through the camp to where a set of metal fencing had been placed like a temporary holding pen for livestock. There was blood on the ground and a few banged up men that showed a fight had occurred within. The ground was scuffed up. The grassy terrain trampled down to dirt and now, there were three dogs standing inside the ring. Their chains connected to the sides of the fence, keeping the fighters in the center lest they want to get bitten. Miles looked around in confusion, seeing a handful of crates stacked around the ring for other hunters to sit on and watch the fight. Others were standing, leaning against the sides of the fence and making bets to each other. Amidst them all was the head of the outfit, the dark haired hunter, Jeremy Blaire. His cold blue eyes fixed on the ring with disinterest as his men bantered about.

 

When Trager ceased is pulling, he was granted a moment’s reprieve to baby his wounded leg. His eyes scanning the crowd as a few curious eyes glossed over him. He felt a tug at his waist and looked down as a belt was strapped to his hips, it was heavy, carrying two rabbits, one on either side of him. Freshly killed that morning. There was an additional strap that slipped over his torso with a cool temperature at his back. He twisted to look back and discovered a waterskin was placed behind him. The hunter grunted as he adjusted the straps so they were snug and wouldn’t fall off. “This here’s yer rations for the next three days. You better hold onto them with yer life or the dogs will get em.” He chirped with amusement, giving Miles’ shoulders a rough shove towards the open gate leading into the ring. “Survive the dogs after five minutes, and ya get to keep what’s left of yer rations.”

 

“What?! No! Please!” Miles blurted out as he was shoved roughly to the ground. His wounded leg buckled under him, causing him to fall to the dirt. A dog snarled beside him, jaws snapping dangerously close to his face but just far enough out of reach. He scrambled back to the center of the ring as he looked around at the three canines, all barking and snapping their jaws to get at him. “Please! Gods have mercy, I’ll do anything you want!” He blurted out.

 

“Can ya suck a cock?” A voice belted out crudely from the crowd.

 

Miles gave a pitiful look as Trager raised a brow at him, tilting his head to the side. “Maybe next time we’ll discuss yer _‘other’_ options for rations.” He gave a greasy smile towards the shepherd as he waved his hand. “Yer time starts now.” With that, one of the three dogs was released from it’s chain and bolted straight for Miles. The shepherd cried out in fear as the jaws opened to snatch him up. He kicked his leg out, catching the beast by its muzzle and receiving a yelp from it. It stunned the beast enough for him to get to his feet, backing up uneasily, he jolted at the barking at his back. He turned quickly, trying to find a way to get out of there.

 

He whirled around just as the dog lunged again, managing to duck away, he narrowly missed a hard bit to his arm. He hobbled to the portion of the fence where the canines were absent in an attempt to climb out but was met by angry hunters jeering at him and pushing him back. He turned towards the dog as another bark came, a set of paws landing hard against his chest as the beast went for his arm. Miles struck out at it, grabbing the dog by its chest and heaving it off with a hard knee to the side. The dog whimpered and backed off before he was shoved hard to the ground. A second dog was released from the chains as the pair diverged on him. Teeth sunk into one of the rabbits at his hip pulling him one way as the shepherd rolled to the side, feeling himself being dragged in the dirt. The second dog attacked his back, jaws chomping down on the waterskin, growling and pulling on the leather, determined to rip a piece off. Miles cried out, terrified that they were going to start sinking their teeth into his torso as he tried to curl up on himself. He felt the liquid starting to leak out as he was pulling in two different directions by the infuriated creatures.

 

The dog biting at the rabbit was successful in ripping the lower half free, tearing the rabbit in two. The third dog was let off chain as the pair fought over the new piece of meat being pulled around. Miles struggled to get away from the dog at his back, feeling the water gush out of the pouch and soak his back and torso. The beast had torn a good hunk of the leather free as Trager cursed. “That was all the water yer getting for the next couple days!” With the canines backed off for a moment, he unfurl from his fetal position and scrambled across the ground to get back to the fence, resuming his attempts to scale it and make his way out only to be met by Trager.

 

He grabbed the shepherd by the throat and pinned him to the fencing, tugging Miles’ bound wrists back behind his head, he had the man at his mercy. He gave a low growl into the shepherds ear. “How bout ya play nice for a little bit and I’ll come by later and play with ya _real_ good. Might even give ya a little something extra fer yer rations.” He gave the shepherd’s ear a hard bite, drawing blood in the action and a scream from Miles’ lips before he was shoved away and into the ring once more.

 

The hunter whistled to the dogs, drawing them to line up obediently to the side. Their maws parted in deep growls and snarls as the shepherd was shooed towards the center of the ring with a rabbit and a half in his possession. He faced the dogs, leaning on his good leg as he held his bound hands out in front of himself. He was shaking, shoulders trembling with each deep breath. “Please.” Miles begged. “Don’t do this. Please!” He swallowed dryly, giving an awkward shifting, losing his balance briefly only to correct it and lower himself to the ground. He winced, the rags he used to wrap his calf with were soaked in blood as his injury was ripped back open.

 

There was a rush of booing in the crowd as several items were thrown at the shepherd. Miles curled up, raising his arms to protect his head as he lowered himself closer to the ground. His clothing was sticking to his body, outlining the skinnier frame of the shepherd and adding to the pitiful appearance. Much resembling the rabbits hanging from his belt. It was fitting, Trager thought. “What d’ya have to offer in exchange fer yer life?” Trager’s voice came out in a lazy drag as he leaned against the fence casually. His dull grey eyes roaming over the sad excuse. It was a shame he was giving up already, the hunter had quite a bit of money put on him to last longer.

 

Miles raised his head, emerald eyes pleading to the hunter, weary and darkly smudged around the edges. His features were paler than the day before as he struggled to his feet again. A shadow whizzed past, crossing the shepherd’s peripheral vision before he could react. A piece of wood, possibly from a stool leg caught him across the side of the head. He went down to the ground with a thud, a sound barely left his lips. The debris had come from a particularly rowdy part of the crowd that had gotten out of hand. Barks of laughter filled the cluster as the hunter narrows his eyes on the one who did it. The laughter didn’t last long as an arrow lodged right into the skull of the man who threw the leg. The crowd’s eyes swept across the ring to see the very displeased look of their boss, his bow tightly in hand as he spoke coldly. “Anybody else want to defy orders?” He already had a second arrow prepared on his string, his eyes scouring the crowd that had fallen to an unsettling silence.

 

Trager made an amused sound, startling a few of those nearest him as Miles’ crumpled form started to move. A red streak pooled from the same side of the face where he had bitten the shepherd’s ear, adding to the blood from earlier. “There ya go. Still got a bit of fight in ya, huh? Knew ya wouldn’t give up so easily.” Trager crooned, giving the dogs another whistle and gesturing towards the shepherd. The canines were beginning to diverge on their prey as Miles pushed himself up to all fours, his chest heaving in deep breaths. His arms were shaking as he struggled to focus, the world blurring in front of him. His hands splitting up into multiple copies before melting back together. His head hung a bit as he forced himself to sit upright, one hand reaching out for a balance that wasn’t really there, the ground appearing closer than it really was before he slumped to the side again.

 

The dogs gave a hard bark before an arrow landed between them and their prey, stopping them in their tracks. All three canines turned to face the direction it came from. The hard glare from the head hunter was enough to send the dogs cowering back to their handler. Trager cursed and started chaining them back up to their designated spots around the ring, tossing deer bones from a recent kill to each to chew on to calm down with. He made his way over to the shepherd and nudged him with his foot, pushing Miles back over so he was staring up at the silver haired hunter. His emerald eyes glazed as Trager snapped his fingers in front of his face. “C’mon buddy. Don’t give up now. It’s time to celebrate. Ya won yerself another day.” Miles’ head tilted to the side in slow motions, avoiding the sunlight with a raised hand. Trager frowned, catching Miles’ wrists by the shackles and hauling him up to his feet, lugging most of his weight over his shoulder. “Ooof, heavier then ya look.” Trager remarked as he strong armed the shepherd back towards his cage.


	18. Fanart Chapter 2: The Perks of Dating Minotaur!Chris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Perks of Dating Minotaur!Chris by Miles Upshur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are interrupting your regularly scheduled Angst with an urgent message of total cuteness and fluff!
> 
> This very lovely fanart was created by @patchworkweddingdress on tumblr in response to my written post (which you may find down below as well.) It is too freaking cute and adorable not to share! So here it is!

  
- **He’s a big soft boy** (super fuzzy and perfect for cuddling up to)  
  
- **He’s a big boy.** (He can reach the high places in the temple)  
  
- **He’s a warm boy** (Never a cold night again when cuddled to that boy)  
  
- **He’s a vegetarian** (Which means Miles can’t ever screw up cooking)  
  
- **He’s a horny boy**. (Meaning he’s got big horns that Miles likes to hang from and decorate)  
  
- **He is also a horny boy.** (Miles must maintain dominance at all times but Chris easily rolls over for him)  
  
- **He protect** (Miles is his hooman. Nobody else can touch his hooman.)  
  
- **He’s got adorably droopy cow ears and tail that flick and flop when he’s a happy boy.** (Miles loves playing with those ears and watching them twitch and perk up)  
  
**-He’s a gentle boy**. (He likes picking fruits or flowers for Miles and giving them as gifts to his very special hooman.)  
  
  
  
**That concludes this lesson of The Perks of Dating Minotaur!Chris.**  
  
  
  
_P.S Get your own because this one’s been taken. -Miles Upshur_

 

 

 

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	19. As The Crow Flies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! The chapter you've all been clamoring for. 
> 
> Warning: It is very brutal.

The villagers were milling about the town in anxious silence. The hunters that had been camped outside of town seemed to be a reputable group that was trustworthy and part of them believed they would keep them safe. With the mention of the Minotaur roaming the land around their village and their fears still lingering about the naga in the mountains. Some had heard the screams of the shepherd on the mountain and feared the serpent had claimed another life but when the hunters pulled the wagons through the village, the townsfolk saw the naga bound completely within the tight confines of a slaver’s cage and then, they saw the pitiful form of the shepherd, torn up by the teeth of a dog, the gruesome wound on his leg was clear for all to see, if they dared to look. The hunters showed not a single care as the early rays of dawn started to filter out over the mountain peaks.

 

There were soft murmurs of concern but none raised a hand to help. As the day carried on towards night, his screams came and went from across the field. The sounds terrorized their guilty hearts, made heavy with shame yet nobody dared raise a hand. Not when the hunters were ridding them of their problems. One by one. They had the Naga and that was more then the villagers could ask for. Still, they hid within their homes and blocked out the sounds.

 

As the heat of day started to give way to the cooler shadows from the mountain, there was a deep growl that rumbled through the air, drawing a few of the villagers to peer out curiously. Breaking through the treeline of the path, was the dreaded Minotaur, racing like a beast on the run with nostrils flaring. He let out a massive roar as he charged on through, many of the villagers were a fright, they couldn’t help but stare at the frail form of the blind man with his shaggy golden locks bouncing in each step, clinging to the beast’s neck for dear life. His voice breaking into the air, urging the Minotaur on like a stubborn mule.

 

The beast slowed as it cleared the village, heading towards the market. The people spread out to give it a wide berth, staring at it wide eyed and murmuring. The crowd had gathered around the creature, apprehensive and afraid. Waylon picked up on the sounds of voices as his white orbs darted around, ears honing in on different tones and sounds, all of which were familiar to him. “Where is Miles?” He blurted out to them. There was silence that followed. A hush fallen over the people as if they could evade the blind man’s senses. His fingers curled into Chris’ fur as he called out again, his voice more direct. “Tell me where my friend is!”

 

Still, the people didn’t speak. Chris’ head veered around, his brown orbs were sharp and cold, daring any others to defy the blind man’s inquiries. He stepped forward, every hoofbeat was a foreboding thump in the dirt. His hand struck out, snatching up a man from nearby, his eyes flitting back and forth, avoiding the beast’s gaze. He let out a fearful cry, grasping at the beast’s forearms, fingers catching on the chain links that bound them. “Oh gods, please have mercy!”

 

“Mercy?” Waylon echoed, his white orbs fixed on the man, following his voice. It was one of the rare occasions where Waylon’s gaze matched the other’s with an eerie precision that sent chills through those on the receiving end. It often even unnerved the Naga when it happened. “When have any of you ever shown mercy?” Waylon’s words were uncharacteristically cold and venomous. A cruel reminder to the villagers of the serpent’s own speculations. It made the people tremble, fearing the blind man would send forth a plague upon them as well.

 

“All of you-” Waylon scoffed. “-you stand around and beg the gods to hand you everything! But you give _nothing_ in return. You know not of _true_ sacrifice. You’ve not given your best to the gods worthy of their mercy.”

 

The people are shocked, startled by the actions of the once passive and otherwise silent town cripple. Now armed with a beast at his bidding and the gods at his back. They feared for their lives, what a man with so much power could do. Yet, none raise a hand to intervene. None tried to stop the beast as it shaked their companion roughly with impatience. **“Miles..”** Chris grunted out when silence resumed.

 

“The hunters took him! With the snake-man!”

 

There was a low snarl from Chris as he shook the man again with a sharp demand on his tongue, lips pulled back into a sneer. **“Where?”** He bellowed out.

 

“The cottage ruins! Atop the hill.” The man blurted out. Chris gave a grunt to Waylon, tilting his head to address the blind man on if this was satisfactory enough.

 

“The hills on the other side of town. You’ll see it when you reach the fields.” Waylon explained. “Miles used to live there, once, long ago.” Chris gave a grunt of acknowledgement and tossed the man aside with a thump. Two of the villagers rushed to his aid as the Minotaur started his way through the market square and towards the other end of the village where the crop fields began.

 

The people parted like a wave, clearing a path for the beast. It was slow moving at first, easing their way through until they neared the end of the buildings where the landscape opened up and the echoes of a scream drifted across the fields. Chris’ ears perked and flickered. Waylon’s head snapped up as he too, caught the voice. **“Miles.”** The beast grunted out before Waylon could. It was all Chris needed to kick start his hooves into charging across the opening, tearing through the fields without a care for the crops in his path. Waylon resumed his tight hold on the Minotaur’s neck.

  
  


 

 

Once he was brought back to the cage, Miles was reduced to a pitiful heap, being tended to by the reputable handler. The shepherd discovered the silver haired hunter’s cure all was to dump that noxious booze on every injury and continuing to do so, even while he was sober. Miles writhed in the bottom of the cage as it entered his wounds and burned its way through his skin like a firebrand. Trager pressed his hand over the shepherd’s mouth to quiet him, stuffing a dirty rag in there for good measure. “By the gods, scream a little less, would ya? Here I am, wasting perfectly good hooch on ya and all ya can do is cry about it.” He snapped, rubbing a sopping wet rag across the shepherd’s face, soaked in the alcohol as he wiped the new injuries clean. He inspected the laceration on the side of the male’s head, matting up his brunette locks with blood.

 

Miles whimpered through the rag keeping his silence, his chest heaving in deep breaths through his nose. His shoulders shook as he tried to pull away from the man, begging for it to stop. There was a curse as the rag was tossed aside, the hunter cupped Miles’ jaw firmly, forcing him to meet his gaze. The pair of emerald eyes staring up through bleary vision, tears streaked down the sides of his face from the pain in his leg and the piercing agony in his head. He closed his eyes to avoid the light of the sun above the man before fingers trailed along his cheek bones again. “Now, if ya ain’t gonna use them little devils, I could always cut’em out fer ya. Make a nice amulet with ‘em. The _all seein Shepherd’s eye._ ” He chuckled dryly. “Could make ‘em matchin. A _His_ and _Her_ set.”

 

Miles made choked sounds in protest, struggling against the hands that moved to caress the sides of his face. He felt the fingers trail up to his eyes again and start to apply pressure on the edges. His whimpers grew more frantic before a loud bang startled them both. The hunter’s hands withdrew as he shot up on alert, looking towards the cage adjacent where the serpent had remained surprisingly quiet so far. His tail was flicking back and forth on the edges, ringing hard against the bars, his shoulders shaking as he gave another buck within the restraints. “Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! What’s the matter with ya?” Trager blurted out, staring at the beast as he pushed himself to his feet, shutting the door part way as he approached Eddie’s cage. The Naga gave another hard buck that had the whole frame quaking. The dull grey eyes widened with concern, reaching for the sword on his hip when there was a series of screams and yelling nearby. A deep howl filled the air that was overly familiar to the hunters.

 

“MINOTAUR!” One of the people in the hunting party cried out.

 

“All men to arms!” Trager yelled, turning on his heel and sprinting in the direction the sound was coming from. “Bring the beast down!” Trager rushed in with a handful of man as the Minotaur charged through the first line of men, horn lowered to crash through. The men dove out of the way to avoid being gored before staring blankly at the beast’s back. They took notice of the frail little cripple clinging to the monster’s back, Chris’ hooves digging into the dirt as he continued his run. They were confused as it continued on through, before Trager yelled out. “Stop it before it gets to the cages!”

  
  
  


 

 

Miles heard the raucous going on, the howl from Chris’ lips and the screams of the men trying to avoid him. He faded in and out of focus before the sounds of footsteps stormed towards them. The cage creaked and groaned as the door was opened, a soft voice meeting his ears before his eyes could focus on the white wispy eyes staring down at him. Brows furrowed in concern, Waylon’s fingers fumbled to search his form for injuries. Miles turned his head and spit out the rag that was still lodged in his mouth, with a little help from Waylon. “Miles! Oh gods, are you alright?”

 

“Waylon.” He croaked dryly, turning his head from the golden halo of hair to see the bulky shadow moving in his peripheral. Chris hooked his fingers into the bars of the cage door, the iron hinges giving a loud groan before they popped and snapped, twisted by the force of the beast’s strength. He climbed into the cage with Eddie, reaching down to the harnesses binding the serpent’s tail. Eddie’s frame relaxed, his body searching and feeling out the Minotaur’s movements. He gritted his teeth behind the muzzle as the harness tightened on his coils before the leather bindings broke with the force of Chris’ grip ripping them apart. His tail unwound and pooled out of the cage, allowing the beast space to get closer to the Naga, breaking away the iron chains keeping Eddie bound. With his own hands free, Eddie pried the collar and muzzle off and peeled the hood off over his head, tossing it to the side.

 

His blue eyes met Chris’ gaze, a look of affirmation crossing between the two. A grunt from Chris and Eddie’s tongue flickering out with a low hiss before the pair climbed out of the cage. A handful of hunters had run around the camp towards their position, stalling in their tracks as the two behemoth beasts headed their way. Eddie’s looming form made larger by the expansion of his scales as his jaws dislocated and dropped down into a roar of his own. It was all fangs and mouth, displaying just how easily the Naga could devour any one of them. Chris’ hooves kicked into the dirt, digging in as another group of the hunters rushed to the opposite side of the beasts. They were back to back, Eddie’s tail coiled beneath himself, muscles rippling as he prepared for the strike. All it took was the first arrow to fly in the air, hitting Eddie’s shoulder before all hell broke loose.

 

The landscape was cramped, a close quarters fight that had Eddie on a high note as he used his tail to smash into the hunters’ wielding swords, pinning them up against the cages and wagons surrounding them. The majority of them worked their way further into the camp where the tents and campfires had been, making it more open, but the hunters were at a disadvantage. Eddie hissed out as a few more arrows were lodged into his body, easily breaking them off with a flick of his tail as talons reached out and slashed at the nearest hunter. His nails ripping through the leather armor ad gouging into the flesh. Screams erupted as he swung around, his tail used like a whip with the heavy weight of his body pinning men down and knocking them aside.

 

Chris wasn’t having much better luck as he faced down Trager. The hunter had taken him on before and had been highly successful in his actions. The chains of his captivity still bracing his arms. The swordsman lunged for the beast, blades drawn as he struck both in quick succession. Chris stumbled back, hooves dragging across the ground as he raised his arms in defense. What had kept him prisoner before, now protected him from the harsh bite of steel, parrying every strike with the links before charging forward with horn down. The hunter managed to dodge last second , bring one blade down on the beast’s thick flank, leaving a skin deep wound behind. Chris turned quick, his body lowered to the ground as he returned for a second charge. The hunter dove out of the way, narrowly missing him once more, landing another sharp blade to his side. Chris cried out in frustration and turned to face the hunter again.

 

A cocky smirk spread across Trager’s face as he raised his blades with a taunting gesture. His smirk melted with a curse. “Fuck!” As he eyed the beast hoisting a large water barrel over his head with ease and launched it at the hunter. Once again, Trager barely made it clear but he had his back to the cage that held Miles, pinning him with limited range. Chris prepared to charge towards him, the hunter raised his swords in defense, daring the beast to try him. “One of us ain’t gettin out alive here.” He chuckled. The Minotaur growled deeply as a set of chains dropped down over the hunter’s head. Trager’s voice broke off before he could speak as they pulled tight around his throat, drawing up. Miles was tucked up against the cage behind him with Waylon’s help as they both put all their weight and strength into holding the man back. Trager dropped his one of his swords as he scrambled to get leverage, caught between defending against the beast and the shepherd.

 

“Fucking die already!” Miles cursed out.

 

Chris took the chance and charged towards the hunter, his good horn meeting the mark. The cage rocked with the force of his body meeting the hunter’s. Waylon and Miles’ grasp slipped on the shackles. A deep crooning from Chris filled the air, blotting out the bloodied gurgling of the hunter. The horn impaling him deeply but it was not without retaliation as the single blade was driven through Chris’ shoulder, very narrowly missing the beast’s heart. There was a long pause as Chris’ eyes met the dull grey orbs of the hunter, their gazes locked as he watched the light fade out, blood pooling up from his mouth and soaking the leather work of his chest. **“DIE.”** The beast bellowed out with ease, removing his horn from its place and watching the hunter crumple to the ground. The sword leaving his grasp as the gaping hole in the center of Trager’s chest drenched the earth. His dull grey eyes left staring out in the distance. It took some effort for the sword to be pulled out as Miles carefully climbed out of the cage. He took the blade from Chris’ grasp as the beast pulled him into a tight hug, nuzzling at the top of his head affectionately.

 

The shepherd tilted his head up to meet those large doe eyes, softening just for him as he was met with a long wet tongue across the face. The beast paused in his motion and grimaced, scrunching his face up at the taste of the vile alcohol on Miles’ skin. Miles sighed, reaching his bound hands up to caress the side of his face in praise. “Good boy.” His voice was breathy and tired, but his smile spread with ease, his features lighting up, glad to have Chris back by his side.

  
  


 

 

They wasted little time as Miles found the keys to his shackles on Trager’s body and freed his wrists. Waylon stayed close by him as he used the hunter’s sword to protect himself, both of them were heading towards a safer location while Chris returned to the fight to help Eddie.

 

The naga was actually enjoying himself with the romp around the camp. Half of it was trampled, smashed or set on fire, easily laying waste to the surroundings and the hunters who dared attack him. It didn’t take long for them to realize their arrows did nothing to stop the beast as every wound healed soon after. Their efforts to recapture him were just as futile. The Minotaur walked up just as Eddie finished tearing open another hunter with his talons, raking deep into the chest cavity while he tail tossed another mangled hunter to the side. Their bodies landing in a crumpled heap like the garbage they were. His sleek black scales glistening with a misting of red over their glossy shine, reflecting nicely in the sun. His tongue flickered out, blood dripping from his lips as he greeted the beast with a hiss. His body swerved, coiling up with satisfaction at his handiwork, his chest puffed out with pride as his lips pulled up in a twisted smirk. “What?”

 

Chris gave another grunt to the serpent which Eddie rolled his shoulders with a shrug. “They wanted a monssssster, sssso I gave them a monsssster.” He spoke in a casual tone, slinking towards the beast with a lazy slither. “Did you find Milessss?” Another grunt of affirmation from Chris. Eddie’s talons were caked in mud and tinged red as he picked at the leather bits and blood encrusting Chris’ one good horn. “You got a little...sssssomething-” He peeled a piece of Trager’s skin off the end, small shrapnel bits of bone was lodged into it. Eddie chuckled in amusement. “Glad to ssssee I wasssn’t the only one enjoying mysssself.” He clapped his hands together and started to dust them off, ridding most of the muck from his palms when a series of barking drew their attention. Eddie rolled his eyes, turning towards it as Chris clamored at his side.

 

The naga took note of the nervous fidgeting the beast started into, his hooves shifting in the dirt as three dogs came from varying locations, surrounding them with a kill circle. “What a pity.” A cold voice sliced through the air. The beasts’ eyes darted towards the figure of the dark haired hunter walking his way through the landscape of carnage sprawled out before him. Steely blue eyes resting on the crumpled, mutilated and mangled bodies of his comrades. Not an ounce of remorse graced his features as he turned his attention back to the Naga and Minotaur with a look of disinterest. He appeared to be minorly annoyed with their tantrum.

 

“I suppose I should thank you for saving me all the trouble. I’ve no reason to keep either of you alive. Coin is coin, rather I deliver you to the Lord with your hearts beating or not.” He chuckled. “Could probably throw in that shepherd boy and the temple cripple with it. Call them curiosities. The Lord would pay a nice bit of coin for men intertwined with the gods.” His laugh was dry, mirthless as he gave a sharp whistle. The dogs lunged forward after the naga and the Minotaur.

 

Eddie growled, having a rough time moving with the smaller beasts racing about, taking turns snapping at his tail and jumping on him with their claws and teeth. Chris was stumbling about as one darted back and forth, biting at his legs. Eddie scowled, giving a deep snarl towards the dogs, but unlike before they didn’t run from him. He hissed out as another arrow his him in the shoulder, his eyes snapping towards the hunter with a growl on his lips, as the tip was rejected by his body. The same yellowish syrupy like substance lingered on his skin, causing the naga to jerk in alarm as another arrow hit him.

 

His tail coiled around Chris, forcing the dogs to distance themselves. The beast grunted in confusion as Eddie grumbled. “Don’t let the arrowsss hit you!” He swung his tail out as the dogs jumped up on his back. His body curling to try and protect the beast beneath him with his body. His scales repelled most of the arrows but what hit his back and torso easily stuck before being rejected. Each time letting a little more of the drug into his system. He hissed out angrily as one of the canines sunk its teeth into the back of his shoulder, digging claws into his spine. He jerked and bucked it off, unfurling from Chris as talons caught the dog’s side. It yelped as crimson lines broke through the dark fur.

 

It gave another attempt to attack the creature but it was much slower. Eddie pounced on the dog, pinning it to the ground with his weight bearing down. The crunch of its body could be felt through his palms before the canine’s soul exited its form, remaining limp on the ground. The other two dogs honed in on the Naga in retaliation but the serpent was determined in his attacks. Sweeping out at the second dog with his talons raking through fur and breaking through skin. The beast crumpled to the ground, belly ripped open by a long sharp claw. The final dog darted, stuck between attacking and fleeing the beast.

 

Meanwhile, Chris took the opportunity to address the hunter. His eyes narrowing on the broken horn hanging from the man’s belt. His lips drew back into a snarl as the hunter’s lips pulled into a smirk. Jeremy patted the horn in a teasing motion, his bow occupying his other hand. “Miss this?” He smirked.

 

Chris charged towards him but Jeremy dodged with ease, twisting around and bringing his bow down over Chris’ back, hitting him hard enough to drive a groan from the Minotaur. “Why couldn’t you just stay where you belonged, huh? In a cage with the rest of the atrocities.” Chris wheeled around to strike at the hunter but was held off with the bow. Jeremy kicked out at the Minotaur’s chest, driving him back as he swung the bow again, catching the beast across the side of the face. Chris stumbled, losing his balance and dropping to one knee. Blaire brought down another strike with his bow as Chris groaned at the pain in his head. His hand shot out and caught the bow before another blow could come but he was met with a blade at his throat. The Minotaur froze, eyes staring up at those steely blue orbs, digging into him like the tip of the knife trailing down his neck, nicking the skin in the process, a warning to the beast of who was in charge. “This is where you belong. At the feet of those above you-”

 

The hunter was cut off as a yelp filled the air and the dark furry mass collided with him, knocking the hunter to the ground and his knife dropped with the impact. “Heel boy!” Eddie barked out, eyes glazed and weary as he inspected the place in which the last of the dogs had landed. His lips curled into a smile towards the Minotaur as his body sank lower to the ground. The drug in the arrow tips was setting in and he was pushing through with what little strength he had left.

 

Jeremy pushed the dog over, letting it slump to the side as he raised his bow, arrow knocked and drawn. Chris couldn’t move fast enough before it lodged into his other shoulder. The laced tip burying into the muscle and flesh to disperse the drug. Chris noticed the smug look on the hunter’s face as his body started to go weak. He reached out, curling his fingers around Jeremy’s ankle and dragging him closer. His other hand fumbled through the grass as he struggled to focus straight, curling around the discarded knife. He put his full weight into the hunter’s torso, driving the air out of his chest as he brought the bow down on his head again and again. Chris returned the favor by driving the knife into his chest. Again and again and again. Until the wet squelching of blood and flesh gurgled up.

 

Jeremy choked on his own screams as the beast brought the blade down until it broke from the hilt and even then he didn’t stop. Not until the world began to spin around him and he slumped off to the side, staring over at the pulverized torso of the hunter and the dead dog. Amidst it was the white bone of his broken horn sticking up from the hunter’s belt. His fingers reached out for the horn but he stopped himself. His hand drew back as he rolled over to stare up at the blue of the sky instead. His tail giving a soft thump to the ground, the heavy weight of dread in his chest finally leaving him for the first time in a long time. He ears perked at the sounds of distance voices, the feeling of something curling around his waist and pulling on him. Shadows falling slowly over the land as night neared. His eyes never left the sky, staring up at it’s cascading purple and orangish hues until darkness cast over his mind and pulled him into the depths of the drug’s effects.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE:
> 
> No dogs were harmed in the making of this fic. They are all okay and are very good boys. The same can't be said for their masters though.


	20. A Beast in the Sheets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miles gets a little action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment below on what you think. I wrote this chapter during the day which is odd for me because writing smut during the day feels plain old strange and I was lacking the right mood. But here it is and I hope you all enjoy it. We still have another chapter or two left so hang on a little longer. We're going to be wrapping this story up soon.

It took several hours for Miles and Waylon to haul their counterparts back up the mountain to the temple. With the help of the hunters oxen, they were able to attach straps to Eddie and Chris’ bodies, pulling them up onto the back of a wagon and carry them off. The wagon moved slowly from the immense weight of both the beasts piled in. Miles feared that the contraption might break and strand them halfway up but the gods seemed to be on their sides as they reached the temple. He urged the oxen to get as close to the doorway as they possibly could. The pair were just starting to stir when they reached the temple. It took half an hour to get them both on their feet enough to stumble into the structure and make their way towards the healing pools. Waylon and Miles stayed close by their sides until they were both wading into the healing waters. 

 

They both seemed to perk up a bit more as their injuries recovered within a few minutes. Waylon tended to Miles’ injuries soaking a clean rag in the waters and wiping it over his injuries with a little bit of direction from Miles on what was necessary to be healed soon and what could wait to heal over time. The laceration on the side of his face and his dog bitten leg were the priorities. The smaller wounds he suffered could go on their own. From there, they split up, Eddie and Waylon returning to their sleeping chamber to curl up together, savoring their reunion while Miles and Chris made their way back to their own chamber. 

 

They were quiet, silence falling over them even once they were safely tucked away into their chamber. Chris didn’t say much, he didn’t even grunt. His thoughts seemed occupied while Miles’ own were filled with conflicting feelings. It didn’t stop them from curling up together in the pile of pillows. Chris’ strong arms wrapped around his torso in a reassuring embrace, reminding the shepherd that he was safe and taken care of. They drifted off to sleep like this, wrapped up in the warmth of each other’s scent and savoring every breath that rose and fell from the other’s chest. 

  
  
  


 

The next day was just as quiet and odd to Miles. He had slept in till nearly noon before he started to stir, finding himself alone in the chamber, a blanket pulled up to his shoulders to offer extra warmth in the Minotaur’s absence. Worried, the shepherd eased his way out to explore, only to find Chris helping Waylon around the temple with his usual duties. Come to find out, Eddie was in a foul mood after the events of the day before and needed some time to himself to decompress and soothe his frustrations. Waylon seemed a little weak limbed that morning as well and from what the blind man was leading on to, the Naga seemed unsated by his offering the night before. There was only so much stamina Waylon had and it couldn’t even amount to the pent up and restless energy of his lover. 

 

Miles offered to help the pair but was dismissed with a easy smile from the blind man and was urged to go soak in the bathing pools for a little while. He grimaced at the reminder that he still had the traces of the noxious booze on him and didn’t dare argue a moment more. As he soaked away the evidence of the last few days, he couldn’t help but feel his mind wander. His thoughts lingering back up on that hill, the fears that he may have joined the two graves already buried beneath the earth. It caused a deep ache in his chest at the realization, that out of all the things he could have been thinking of up there, of all the memories and the grief soaked into that soil, his thoughts found their way to the Minotaur every time silence had fallen. When he wasn’t searching for an escape or fending off the mad hunters, he was thinking about Chris. Not his wife and child who had died so long ago or the remains of the house that had burned down or even the life that he had lived long before he even met Chris. 

 

He felt a strange tightness in his chest as he considered this bit of information. The feeling morphed into an anxious flutter as Eddie’s advice echoed in his mind. He was certain the Naga was just teasing him back then but in the end, he couldn’t help but find truth in that declaration. The Minotaur had offered him an opportunity to become his mate. He had brushed it off like a fool, thinking it was base instinct but he knew, deep down, it was something more. Chris wasn’t some mindless animal going through the motions. He could think and feel and he cared for Miles. He acknowledged the shepherd with a measure of respect and adored him, not because he was kind to him. If those feelings had been so basic, then Chris would have responded the same way to Waylon’s kindness. No, of course it was something more. It appeared Miles was the only one who couldn’t see that plain as day. He just feared that he might have missed that opportunity and let it slip through his fingertips. 

 

At the same time, he wasn’t sure how he would have sated Chris, given their obvious size difference but his mind couldn’t help but linger on the thought. It followed him as he left the bathing pools, feeling squeaky clean and refresh but the weight of his conflicting feelings and emotions bogged him down until he found himself sitting in their chamber staring at the contents of his belongings. He had picked out a carrot and a bottle of olive oil and was left with questions still spinning in his mind. He bit the bottom of his lip, assured that Waylon would be working on his duties for a few hours more which gave him plenty of time alone to figure this out. “Here goes nothing.” He sighed, picking up the contents and disrobing. Setting the garment off to the side, neatly folded as he cursed himself under his breath, trying to work up the courage. 

 

“Not gonna be brash about this.” He mumbled to himself as he popped the cork from the bottle and dribbled a little bit of the oil onto his fingertips. “If this doesn’t work out…” He trailed off, shivering as his fingertips rubbed over the tight ring of muscle, sliding the slick oil across the flesh. He leaned forward so he was on all his hands and knees, one hand reaching back at an odd angle as he felt it out, trying to get used to the sensation. “Eh- it’s been a while.” He grumbled to himself, looking down at his growing arousal as the muscles relaxed and his finger slipped in with ease. He hissed out a deep breath, feeling the slick slide of the digit as he gave a few test thrusts. “Not so bad.” He murmured as he added a little more oil and tried to work the muscle up a little more.

 

It wasn’t long before he could work a second finger into the mix. It was tight and uncomfortable but he moved at a slower pace, giving deep easy breaths to remain relaxed. He spread his legs a little further and leaned back so he was sitting upright. His fingers spread apart, twisting up inside to move at odd angles until he pressed against the little bundle of nerves, sending a shiver of excitement throughout his body. His emerald eyes opened with a surprised gasp falling from his lips. He froze, giving another little probing motion as that same excited feeling worked through his nerves and had him stifling his breath. “Now that- that….” He took another deep breath and focused his attention to the carrot. He cut the tip off to dull it and rubbed it down thoroughly with a bit of oil before pressing it to his stretched opening. 

 

It went in with the slightest bit of pressure, sliding with ease after a moment and driving right into that special little spot. Miles couldn’t stop the moan that let his lips as he laid back down, his chest pressing into the floor, face resting against a pillow. His member hung heavily between his legs as his hand started short measured thrusts with the root, working it in and out before he started to get a little more adventurous. Pressing it deeper, he tried other angles to find out how it felt. His eyes squeezed shut as he buried his face into the pillow, legs spread wider and back arching. The stifled moans and shuddering breaths filled his ears, covering up the sound of the large wooden door opening and the soft scuff of hooves on the floor.

 

Chris froze in his steps, staring down at the lewd sight of the shepherd with his back to him. His large brown eyes fixed on the hand working the carrot in and out. His ears perked up at the sounds coming from the other’s lips and he couldn’t help the ache inside him. His eyes roaming over the deep arch of Miles’ back and the sun kissed skin from so many days beneath the warm rays in the field. The remaining marks on his body from the hunters. His mouth went dry, jaw slacked a bit as he considered what to do, feeling conflicted as his own heat rose up to devour him. He gritted his teeth and started to turn away, knowing he couldn’t control himself if he were to linger any longer, until he heard the soft whines of frustration coming from Miles’ lips. 

 

The shepherd’s wrist had started to cramp up, no accustomed to the repetitive motions. He paused to take a break, his member leaking precum from the slit already as he waited for the cramping to go away but the desire for release only came much stronger. He shifted on the pillow, his emerald eyes opening slowly when he felt the heat at his back, then the hands on his hips. He froze, feeling the large palms rub carefully along his waist in easy strokes, urging him to relax. “Chris?” Miles’ voice broke with embarrassment as a million different questions ran through his mind. “I-it’s not what you think-” He started, stumbling for an explanation before the hot wet tongue pressed against the carrot, jostling it around inside him. His mind went blank as another moan echoed out. He bit his bottom lip as the Minotaur’s tongue lathed over the oil that was dripping down the shepherd’s thighs like a tasty treat begging him to come and try. 

 

Miles’ fingers curled into the pillow as the carrots started to fall out only to be pushed back in with the long tongue of the beast. The Minotaur grunted, approving of the little sounds that continued to come from his companion’s chest. He bit down on the end of the carrot and bobbed his head, moving the root in and out, his tongue working around the oil slicked entrance and pressing inside of Miles in between thrusting motions. The shepherd couldn’t stifle the little mewls and moans that came from him as he writhed beneath the Minotaur’s tentative actions. Chris’ large hands fixed firmly on his hips to keep him from squirming too much. 

 

A few more direct thrusts from the carrot and Miles was pushed over the edge, his seed spilling out onto the floor with a sharp cry of pleasure. The Minotaur gave a few short thrusts for good measure before he pulled the carrot out of his companion and admired the stretched entrance. It was still far too small to permit him entry but that was of little worry to the Minotaur as he urged the male to turn around and face him. His hands gripping Miles’ hips as he adjusted his position, leaning back so the shepherd was sitting in his lap. Miles’ face was beat red as he dared to meet those large doe eyes. Chris’ ears perked, flickering with delight as his lips curled back into a smile. The shepherd returned the expression with a small bit of anxiety as he addressed the fully hard shaft between them. “Chris, I don’t think I can take all of that.” Miles stated after a moment of eyeing the sheer size of the beast.

 

Chris let out a deep chuckle, letting it rumble through his chest as he shook his head. He pointed towards the bottle of oil sitting off to the side with the now disposed carrot. Miles’ emerald eyes flitted over to it before he glanced back towards Chris with confusion. Chris leaned in, giving Miles’ neck a small little nibble and teasing his teeth over the shepherd’s ear as he grunted out.  **“In Me.”** He knew it would be unrealistic to expect the shepherd to take him. Even when he was rutting furiously against everything in sight, he knew that fact well. He was just as embarrassed as the shepherd was but something in the male’s scent drove him wild every time and he couldn’t stop himself. 

 

His hormones had settled down since his little rutting problem but he was just as eager to mate with the shepherd as he was before. Even if it meant he would be on the receiving end, he didn’t care. It wasn’t a blow to his pride as long as he could continue to hold Miles in his arms and keep him safe and close. He watched as Miles shivered, letting his tongue lathe over the back of the shepherd’s neck in a teasing motion, he nudged him towards the oil again with a grunt of encouragement.

 

Miles felt his face heat up as he crawled towards the bottle and pulled it closer, feeling Chris’ hand still resting against his hip like a protective touch, prepared to swoop in and draw him back close should he get too far away from the beast. He scooted his way back to Chris, turning around to face the beast. The Minotaur grunted in approval, giving a gentle pat atop the shepherd’s disheveled brunette locks. Miles made a soft sound at the praise, finding it odd to be on the other end of it for once. He couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his lips as the beast’s ears perked up and flicked. The soft thump of Chris’ tail against the floor was another positive sign. He watched the beast lay back, moving towards the pile of pillows so he was propped up a bit and could watch. Those brown eyes were fixed on the shepherd with curiosity, mixing in with the swelling of desire nestling in his abdomen. He let out a great huff of contentment as Miles opened the bottle again, drizzling the oil out into his palm. 

 

It was an awkward task, given Miles had only done this to himself for the first time not even ten minutes prior and here he was repeating the process on the Minotaur. Chris was surprisingly relaxed and docile, at least from Miles’ perspective. The shepherd had been so nervous before just on his own. He bit the inside of his lip and glanced up at the Minotaur as his fingers worked the oil in place, ensuring Chris wasn’t feeling any kind of pain or discomfort. Instead he saw a look of utter adoration in the beast’s eyes. It swirled around with a deep set trust in him that he wouldn’t bring him any harm and was back lit with a fire of desire burning just within. A smoldering look settling on those features that had Miles’ arousal giving an encore performance. 

 

Chris grunted softly, his tail giving another thump as his head tilted back, feeling the shepherd’s fingers press just the right spot. His hooves scuffed the floor as they tried to catch for leverage.  **“Miles.”** He bellowed out, giving the shepherd a signal that he was ready for the other. Miles nodded, withdrawing his fingers and adding a little more oil to his shaft, coating it thoroughly and drizzling a bit more on Chris’ entrance before lining himself up. 

 

He rubbed his hands over Chris’ thighs in gentle soothing motions, giving a teasing stroke with his oily fingers over the aching shaft before him just as the head of his member pressed inside. Chris easily swallowed him up, taking him for every inch he could give and surrounding him in the intense tight heat of his silky inner walls. The shepherd wasn’t modest in his size at all, at least as far as a human male goes. He was a little above average but when compared to Chris, he was pitiful in size. Even going so far as to worry that this may turn out to be an inadequate performance on his part due to his lacking physical stature. His emerald eyes glanced up to meet the chocolate orbs and saw the needy look from the beast. Chris gave out a grunt of approval, his breathing had increased a bit as they settled for a moment. “You alright?” Miles inquired, his slick fingers offering a few firm strokes to the shaft and sensitive tip of the beast, dispersing the precum that bubbled up from the slit. 

 

Chris met his inquiry with another strong grunt, his hooves catching on the stonework as he rocked his hips in an easy motion. The gesture nearly made Miles fall back over, forcing him to grip Chris’ thighs tightly. Fingers spreading through the coarse fur, dispersing the thick layers to ruffle it up as he reasserted his position. He shifted on his knees to get a better angle and instead received a deep groan from the beast. His nostrils flaring with a great huff. Miles gave another curt thrust as he tested out the angle he wanted to go for. Each time it produced a satisfying response from Chris.  His lips curled up into a smirk as he continued the easy glide back and forth into the heated walls of the Minotaur. The beast’s head tipped back into the pile of pillows, his ears drooping back as he groaned. His mouth parted in deep breaths. His hands gripping at the pillows at his sides as the shepherd reached between his legs and pumped the shaft as he rocked his hips into his sweet spot. 

 

Chris’ hooves bucked, kicking out at the stonework and tapping at it with excitement, the strong powerful legs flexing with the gesture, back arching as Miles ground the tip against the bundle of nerves. He felt Chris start to clamp down on him, pulling soft groans and pants from his own chest. His fingers rose up along Chris’ thighs to disperse across the dips and divots of muscle throughout the expanse of his torso and abdomen. Drawn in with every deep breath, the shallow dip rising back up with a quick flex before dipping back down between a series of panting breaths and sighs. Miles’ pace picked up as he settled his hands back along Chris’ hips then dipped back down to his thighs where he rubbed careful circles along the flexing muscles to urge the other to relax a little more. The gesture was met with the careful shifting of his legs until Chris’ hooves quieted down to light scuffing and rubbing. 

 

Miles’ thrusts became faster and stronger as the other relaxed into it, greedily sucking him in with each motion, driving the beast mad with the pleasure bubbling up inside him. “Good boy.” Miles praised, drawing grunts and moans from the Minotaur as he crooned in pleasure.  His pace picked up for several thrusts before he felt himself nearing the edge. He gave a slow roll of his hips, grinding up against the sweet spot inside of Chris and drawing more gasping flexing howls from the male. Watching as his body writhed beneath him at his touch was mesmerizing. The muscles rippling and fur ruffling up. It seemed to stand on end around his neck and shoulders giving him a fluffier disheveled appearance that only made Miles more desperate to watch him come undone. 

 

His hands gripped Chris’ thighs a little tighter, not daring to give his aching shaft anymore attention. His intent was to send him over the edge with each slow hard roll of his hips. He groaned, feeling the muscles clamping down on him again, quivering inside as the pleasure built up to the brink. A few more harder rolls, increasing the pace was just the right amount to drive Chris into another loud bellow that quaked through the shepherd.  **“Miles!”** The Minotaur tightened up, hips bucked as his hot seed spilled out over his chest in large bursts, pooling into his fur. The twitching muscles worked Miles up enough as he gave a few final good thrusts to milk him for all he had before his own release spilled out. Considerably less than Chris’ but it was satisfying nonetheless. He groaned, hips bucking up to get in for all he could before he sank back down to his haunches. Chris seemed to melt like a puddle beneath him, torso expanding and contracting with deep breaths as chocolate orbs gazed up at him, dazed and weary. 

 

The Minotaur gave a firm grunt, raising his arm towards the shepherd. Miles removed himself from Chris and shifted closer, fingers weaving through Chris’ offered hand, only to be pulled over onto the beast’s chest. His other arm already wrapping around Miles’ waist and holding him close. Miles smiled, curling their fingers together and watching Chris’ dwarf his hand. 

 

His emerald eyes were content as he turned to face the flickering ears and compassionate chocolate orbs. He was greeted with a kiss from the Minotaur, lips pressing firmly against his, catching Miles off guard but he soon turned further into it and even urged their lips to part. It was sloppy and warm, with a little too much tongue considering Chris’ lazy appendage had a habit of getting in the way but it was also heated and passionate with a possessiveness that accompanied the arm around his waist. When they parted for air, Chris nuzzled against Miles’ cheek. His breath rustling his tousled brunette locks as fingers strokes soft circles over the lithe figure of his waist and torso. He traced gentle lines across the dips of modest muscle and along his rib cage. Miles smiled softly, resting his head just under Chris’ chin, nestling into the soft untouched fur of the beast’s chest. It was more like peach fuzz over the warm pecs that spanned his upper chest before it reached up into the thicker curlier fur. His eyes staring down at their woven fingers, playing quietly with the other’s touch and tracing the heart lines of his palm. 

 

**“Ay love Miles.”** Chris grunted into his ear, his tongue flicking out to roll across the back of his neck. Miles shivered, turning his head up to meet the soft brown orbs. The beast’s ears were drooping, a sudden self conscious action as a soft pink flush flashed across Chris’ cheeks. 

 

Miles’ own features heated up but he couldn’t help the smile that broke through his stunned features. He wiggled a little higher up on the beast’s torso as he rested his forehead against Chris’ murmuring softly. “Miles loves Chris. Very very much.” 

 

Chris made another affirmative grunt, the sounds were suddenly much more excited as if he was trying to think of something more to say but his tongue just didn’t want to work for him. He took a few deep breaths before he finally worked out a few more words.  **“Miles is mate. My mate.”**

 

Miles couldn’t help the laugh as he pulled his hand free from Chris’ grasp, sitting up. Chris’ ears drooped a little bit at the sounds, that pink flush going darker as a conflicted expression crossed his features. His ears drawn back in confusion. Miles reassured him by rubbing his fingers behind the ears and bumping them back up to their happy perked posture. “Yes, I am yours. I am Chris’ mate forever.” He leaned closer and delivered another kiss to the Minotaur’s lips. Chris gave a louder grunt this time, kissing him back as his arms snaked around Miles’ waist, holding him in a firm embrace before running his head up against Miles’ cheek in affection. Giving soft grunts and rumbles of delight. Miles returned the action with another pleasant laugh, moving his arms around Chris’ neck to provide an embrace of his own. 


	21. Time Is A Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time passes and the Temple doesn't change, but the visitors who appear, have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how good this is because I was literally crying for half an hour over my keyboard trying to push through the torment to get to the end because damn I was determined and now am too broken to read back over it. 
> 
> Please leave a comment below on what you think. Enjoy!

They waited out the days in the temple, letting things calm down first before they would leave. Miles made several trips down to the village to check on his flock, catching wind from the murmurs of the villagers that the Lord who sent the hunters was displeased with the outcome. There was talk that he was going to send out another group of men, determined to find the beast no matter the consequences. He sighed, realizing that the three dozen dead men sent back to his doorstep did little to dissuade his efforts. The villagers had salvaged the carnage on the hill, cleaning up the mess to keep the wolves and other beasts away from the town. What was left behind, they took for themselves, scavenging the lot. Late in the night, the shepherd and the Minotaur made their way to the hilltop where Miles introduced Chris to the two graves left behind. Worn away with the weather, they still rested next to the stump. Chris had brought narcissus flowers to lay on the graves, showing his respects to Miles’ old family.

 

The villagers avoided the shepherd during the days and even kept their distance from the temple for a while, fearing the blind man’s wrath. When Miles would go into town, the people were wary of him and even went out of their way to avoid him to the point it was troublesome to get anything accomplished. He thanked his neighbor for taking care of his flock in his absence and returned to the temple. They still had the two oxen they took from the encampment and the cart situated up in the mountainside. After nearly a week, Miles and Chris packed up all the supplies they needed and loaded the goats into the back of the wagon, giving Waylon and Eddie their last goodbye. It had been a long week of deliberation but it was obvious in the end that they would find no peace here. They wouldn’t be able to live the lives they wanted while the Lord was still hellbent on catching Chris and the entire village had ultimately turned on them.

 

It was a sad parting, leaving the place Miles had known as his home all his life. He grew up in these hills and woods and started a family. He raised his flock and carried on with his best and closest friend. It was a bittersweet parting with many tears between the two friends. A long heartfelt goodbye as they hugged. Eddie and Chris had their own unspoken passing of consolation, ending it with a firm shake of the hand and a prayer for their safety on their travels. When night fell, they departed from the mountains, heading where they could find a more peaceful life, leaving Waylon and Eddie to watch over the temple.

 

 

 

As the years went by, the people of the village came less and less to the temple. They made visits during prominent holidays and brought offerings if only to appease to the gods when they truly desire something in return. Rather it be luck, favor or fortune. Waylon still carried out his duties each and every day, spending the free time with Eddie enjoying the temple and the silence that filled it. With time passing, they no longer feared that the villagers would come up into the mountains and cause trouble, allowing them to take a leisurely evening stroll through the trees and up along the winding paths. At night they would even make their way down to the valley where Miles used to run his flock through the field.

 

Waylon would tell Eddie stories about the past and the days spent in those fields. He would stretch out in the grass and soak in the cool quiet sounds of night. The soft chirping of crickets and the distant croaking of frogs near the creek bed. The serene trickling of the water over the stones when the creek would lower before the next storm. They would make their way to the treeline where Eddie would help him pick the wildflowers to bring back up to the temple. Their gentle fragrances adding a little more life to the endless halls.

 

Five decades had passed and the storms were on the edge of the season. It had been two months since there was last a visitor. Waylon still lit the candles in the entryway with Eddie’s guidance and they would murmur a prayer for the statues in the hall. They had been cooped up for several days with the harsh rains and hadn’t expected the soft scuff of footsteps mounting the stairs. Waylon’s head perked up before Eddie even registered the sound. An echo of distant memory from years before drew him towards the doorway. A large figure filled the entrance, the shadows stretching out across the threshold as the lightning lit the sky. The damp air was met with the scent of wet fur and a gasp of surprise from the naga.

 

The tawny fur had faded with age, the dark chocolate hues were dulled over with time and the curling fur had become short and worn away. Their were splotches of grey peppering the muscular legs and a considerable amount of weight had fallen off the beast’s figure. His ears drooped in a sad heap and the features were weathered away by years under the sun and facing the harsher climates. In the beast’s arms was a slender and frail figure wrapped in thick rags, shivering in the cold of the days. His body protected by hides that sheltered him, still his crippled fingers found their way to curl into the Minotaur, seeking warmth.

 

The lustrous emerald orbs were just as faded as their counterpart. Possibly blind in at least one eye with the discoloration. The tousled head of brunette curls had thinned out and was cut much shorter than Eddie last remembered. His legs were thin and bony, the strong muscles that used to carry the sure footed shepherd had withered away as well with time and left him incapable of holding himself up any longer. The beast was his only form of mobility. The dull brown hues met Eddie’s with a sad huff, as Miles’ voice croaked out, dry and broken. There was a constant tremble in his words, separated with careful pauses as he searched for the thoughts that often fled him. “It’s just like I remember.” Miles murmured into Chris’ neck, the frail voice trickled into Waylon’s ears as the blind man picked up on the same old notes that carried in the others tone.

 

“Miles?” His voice trailed a bit.

 

Miles’ attention tilted towards the blind man and the naga as if just noticing their presence. His thin cracked lips curled into a weak smile as he breathed slowly. One hand reaching out for Waylon as Eddie placed a hand on the blind man’s shoulder. He guided Waylon’s touch to carefully grasp around the curled and cold fingers of his friend. His hands didn’t work like they used to, much like the rest of his body. His faded green eyes fell on the halo of golden curls still shining like a saint in the altar. Miles had never told Waylon how fitting his presence seemed in the temple. Despite his disability, he shared the same modest beauty that the gods were often depicted in. His pale skin was just as smooth and silky, a rough contrast against the leathery hide that had become the shepherd’s own. Still easily torn or bruised with the lightest bump or motion. “Waylon.” His voice picked up a cheery note.

 

Waylon was at a loss for words as his fingers held the other’s hand as tightly as he dared. Eddie’s expression was crestfallen to see the shepherd the way he was. He considered it a mercy that Waylon couldn’t witness the difference the way the rest of them could. He helped guide Waylon’s free hand to caress Miles’ face, stroking his thumb over the wrinkled old features, the dark shadows resting prominently beneath his eyes and the small scars and wounds that had befallen the shepherd from years of work and life. “If you’re here, does that mean…?” His words trailed off, not wanting to finish that sentence. Chris gave a slow nod with a rough grunt, bordering on a harsh cough.

 

“The gods,” Miles started, his brows furrowing for a moment in deep concentration as he traced his own broken thoughts for the answers he wished to give. “-they gave me a vision and….I was to follow it. It led me here.” Miles looked all around himself with a swell of confusion, his eyes staring up at the arching ceilings before his gaze turned back to the blind man. His confusion settled to fondness and he smiled, murmuring the blind man’s name once more. “Waylon.” As if suddenly greeting him again for the first time. He pulled Waylon’s hand closer to his chest and closed his eyes. Chris gave another saddened huff, his gaze broken up with sorrow.

 

“Come in out of the cold.” Eddie offered to the pair, gesturing for them to move deeper into the temple. They gathered themselves in Miles and Chris’ old chamber. A pile of pillows was brought in to rest Miles on so he could relax but Chris never left his side, nor did Waylon. They held the shepherd’s hands and watched over him as he dozed off, drifting in and out of sleep. Waking up to the pair settled beside him with a look of confusion as to how they had gotten to the temple. He would greet Waylon periodically with the happy croak of his name and hold his hand a little bit firmer every time.

 

This went on for three days before an unsettling sensation filled the temple. Miles was far more lucid that morning and the rain had settled to a slow drizzle outside. There was a sense of peace that had overcome the building as the shepherd spoke fondly. “I could feel it in my dreams. I knew this day was coming. I was not afraid of my own mortality, Waylon.” His hands were able to uncurl enough to hold Waylon’s fingers back with what little strength his body still harbored. Chris held him in his arms, helping him sit up with a hand at his back. Eddie was curled up behind Waylon, watching over his lover to comfort him. “I wanted to come home. Just one last time. To spend one more day with you and to see the valley again.” He murmured. “I was happy. I lived a long life with the ones I love most in this world.” He turned his head to face the blind man, offering another gentle smile. Waylon’s fingers were moved to rest on his face, to feel that smile grace his lips one last time.

 

“I’m finally home.” He murmured as his eyes drifted shut. The hand holding Waylon’s slowly went limp as the last of his life was given. His expression was one of peace, with a fond and satisfied smile on his lips. Eddie noted, it was the way someone like Miles deserved to go. He was a good man who had served the gods well in this life. He could only offer a prayer that they will receive him with the same love and open arms that the shepherd had met so many others with. Hot tears slid down Waylon’s face as his fingers trailed over Miles’ features, moving down to feel the empty silence of his chest. His heart no longer offered a sound to the world. His fingers fell away from the male’s hands as he turned into Eddie’s waiting embrace. A sob racked his form.

 

The wail from the Minotaur was a sound that neither of them had anticipated to hear. It was a broken cry that shattered their already cracked hearts. His arms cradling the fragile form of the shepherd as he held him closer to his chest. The mournful bellows of the beast were enough to reach even the hearts of the gods. A soft chime silenced the world as the peaceful presence filled the room. A congestion of energy that fixed around the Minotaur with a soft glow. He rose up to his hooves with a brittle stance, holding Miles close as he answered unspoken words in a grunt. He nodded quickly, the whispers uttered in the air were quick and easily missed but Eddie heard their echoes in the room. Could feel their remorse as they extended a mercy to the Minotaur. For his loyalty to the shepherd and his limitless love for the man. They offered a final peace.

 

Chris held Miles carefully, their foreheads pressed together as he gave a final sweet affection to his mate. His body stood rigid and determined as the grey scale color of stonework crawled across his body like a wave, lapping over his flesh and encasing it in the gods final blessing. Immortalizing their love and their lives in stone. Chris uttered not another sounds, holding still as the stony facade encased them entirely. Eddie’s words failed to reach his lips as he consoled his lover, offering what little comfort he could. His eyes never left the now petrified statues of the pair. The loving embrace of the Minotaur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't go anywhere. There is still more coming. One more chapter.


	22. Time Heals All Wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final send off for Eddie and Waylon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is. The final chapter for this long ass fic. Thank you everyone who have supported me throughout this whole piece and created beautiful fanart for it. (which if more art pops up, I will add more chapters to post the new art pieces because I want to share the beautiful feels with everybody.)
> 
> This is my longest and most emotional fic so far (that was supposed to end at chapter 7 but I got talked into another 13 chapters. ) I don't know what else to say. I'm still crying over this fic. So here you are. Enjoy. Please leave comments below on what you think.

**_Modern Day_ **

 

The streets were lively with the back and forth pace of the night life, illuminated by the bright city lights. The dark suburban pulled up to the curb as a pair stepped out, the valet already awaiting with an umbrella prepared to shelter the newcomers until they were able to scramble beneath the awning and out of the steady drizzle that came and went. The distant echo of car horns filtered through with the farther removed sirens of emergency vehicles milling about the city in the rat race that has become modern life. Time has been kind to the pair that had stepped out of the vehicle, dressed in fine expensive suits, tailored to fit snug.

 

The tallest gentleman had a head of slicked back raven hair, shaved on the sides in a neat undercut, sheltered by the fedora resting atop his head. A black dress jacket was buttoned up, with a crisp white dress shirt beneath and a bow tie. Leather gloves adjusted the crimson scarf hanging from around his neck. His dark blue eyes, still as mesmerizing as ever, turned towards the smaller lithe male at his side. He offered a hand to guide him, looping their arms together as they stepped up the dip in the curve. The soft tick of the cane in the smaller male’s free hand clicked against the sidewalk. His white wispy orbs shielded by the dark pair of sunglasses that offered protection from all the bright stimulation of the modern world.

 

They eased their way up the path with a casual pace, unlike the others attendants that briskly made their way inside the tall elegant glass building, depicting the over sized museum before them. It’s beauty, both in architecture and style, was lost to the blind man. The only items he wished to view were locked away behind layers of thick glass, but he could still hear the recordings, regaling the history of each piece as he passed. They were let in free of charge with a special invitation from the owner of the building as many of the pieces now encased in the hallowed halls were once the blind man’s own possessions over time. But tonight was the unveiling of his most cherished possession he owned.

 

Eddie fussed with the gloves protecting his hands from the environment as they stepped inside. The soft murmurs of the people entering were far louder in the tranquil silence that accompanied such institutions. They were made even louder by the blind man’s acute senses. He smiled when he heard the idle mentions of tonight’s great unveiling along with several other priceless pieces. Some of the more wealthy folks made mention that it was a shame for such a piece to end up stuck behind the glass pieces and they entertained the thought of how much money such a fine piece would have gotten on the open market.

 

“Easy darling.” Eddie hummed, murmuring into Waylon’s ear when eh felt the smaller male’s hackles rise. He carded the leather covered fingers through the disheveled mess of blonde locks, tutting at the unruliness of his lover’s hair and its refusal to be tamed. Much like Waylon’s own traveling spirit. Eternity has taught the blonde the disappointments that follow humanity, as if that was something new that needed to be learned. Waylon was well aware of their shortcomings but institutions like this gave Waylon hope for the future generations. To learn and expand their knowledge and to savor and cherish that which their history has held so dear. So guarded. With time, truth has fallen and faded. Humanity could only speculate about the distant centuries and many were often misunderstand or overlooked. It was disheartening but he would not allow that to spoil his delight in the night.

 

Eddie continued to fuss with the gloves on his hands, causing Waylon to frown and take the elder man’s grasp in his. He rubbed his thumbs over the back of his hands, sliding up under the dark fabric hiding them from the view of other mortals. The scaly traits of Eddie’s naga form were started to show, forcing the man to hide much of his person. “We’ll need to make another trip to silky to renew the energy in your amulet.” Waylon murmured.

 

“You know how much I dislike that nymph, darling.” Eddie scoffed, drawing his hand free to fix his bow tie. He kept his arm looped in the crook of Waylon’s elbow to keep him from stepping too far away or bumping into others. He shifted his collar again, feeling the amulet settling incorrectly beneath his shirt. He sighed, giving up on the discomfort since they didn’t plan to stay all that long tonight. They had other duties to perform, one of which involved the blessed object that kept his true naga form concealed.

 

“I know but you can’t slither about scaring the locals like the old days. There are laws against that.” He hummed, resting his head against Eddie’s bicep as they were guided towards a large viewing room filled with cases covered in fabric, keeping them hidden from the other spectators until it was time. There was one that was prized above all the rest, encircled by rest ropes to keep people a respectable distance away. Waylon lingered, letting Eddie mill about and trying to dodge the many people coming to congratulate them on their donations to the museum. Eddie knew well who to avoid and would give Waylon a warning should they come upon somebody notable or if they were cornered by another nosy journalist or wealthy investor come to chat him up seeking partnerships.

 

Money was no question to Waylon, though it also held no value to him either. He didn’t find the amusement in entertaining mortals whose only eye was for the almighty dollar. Eddie did a fine job most days scaring off any who would strike up the nerve to approach him with their so called humanitarian acts. It didn’t matter the century or the country they were in, it was always the same. Men tossing around power in the name of something higher than themselves, giving them an easy scapegoat or justification for their dirty business. He’s stood witness to empires rising and falling over these so called ideals. Observed from a distance as mankind had torn itself apart with war and genocide. He’s favored few and far between throughout the centuries but none could ever compare to the lowly humble shepherd who had taken him in from the cold.

 

As the rest of the patrons and special guests had pooled into the room, hors devours were being carried around on trays by attendants and a few carried wine or champagne, giving different choices for the guests. Waylon opted for a bottle of water while Eddie sipped at a glass of wine. Both came to an agreement that nothing could ever compare to the spiced juice that the blind man adored from their home. They settled in as the main event started. The owner of the museum stepped up with a microphone and started the opening with a few appreciable mentions to those who have sponsored them and the people who helped put everything together. They made mention of a few newer pieces that had come in from a South African exhibit and commended the donor for their contribution.

 

The speech didn’t last long before they got down to the main reason they had gathered for celebration. The unveiling of four different exhibits with artifacts and pieces dating back several centuries. The first two of the four exhibits were unmasked to show different pieces of ancient shrines and a handful of golden utensils and ancient pottery. The third was a range of weaponry that had been discovered so long ago. One of which was a familiar sword that Eddie recognized within moments. He glanced down at Waylon with a curious look, forgetting that Miles had left the hunter’s sword behind all those years ago. The final unveiling gained a drum roll sound rumbling out from the speakers before the fabric was pulled away. There was a gasp from the crowd as they stared up in awe at the statue within the glass case.

 

It was a scene Waylon had burned into his memory. He had touched it with his fingertips until every last crevice and detail was mapped out and repeated to do so for centuries. The expressive peace that had fallen over the fragile shepherd’s face, caressed so carefully in the Minotaur’s arms. The way Chris’ head bowed in a final expression of affection for his lost lover and life long mate, it caused a stir amidst the viewers as they murmured praises towards the artist who could carve such lifelike pieces. There was a few forlorn mentions of it being almost in perfect condition, pointing out the broken horn on the one side. It was resting on a raised pedestal for all to view and shielded behind thick glass. At Waylon’s request, the base that held the statue up, was engraved in the hauntingly beautiful tale of the Shepherd and the Minotaur. There was a digitized version that could be read aloud to the sensory impaired visitors, which played for all to hear within the room.

 

“They did as you asked.” Eddie murmured into Waylon’s ear, informing him that his second request was fulfilled. Resting atop the pedestal, at the pair’s feet was a wreath made of crystallized narcissus flowers. They rested in remembrance of the pair and their bond. The flowers were the real thing but were encased in a substance that resembled the petrification that held the two lovers. It was a man made substance used often for those grieving to hold onto the flowers from a loved one’s funeral or other decorative reasons. These flowers would never die, continuing to uphold their beauty forever.

 

Of course, the tale inscribed was altered slightly, as many historians authenticated the statues for the proper time period. Instead of lovers, they were depicted as close friends. It explained that the shepherd had offered aid to a wounded Minotaur, showing kindness and generosity to the beast. It was revered for its human qualities, since Minotaur were often depicted as being more beast than man. There was only so much Waylon could do to intervene with the modern mindset. In the end, the only thing that mattered was that their story would be told and never forgotten. That others would see Miles and Chris in the same light that he had. That their victories and their hardships would not go overlooked. He could only hope that their story could be as inspiring to others as it was to Waylon.

 

Waylon reached up and wiped the tears away from his eyes, stifling the sniffle that rose up. Eddie gave a soft smile, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on the blind man’s cheek as he wiped the tear tracks away with his thumb, caressing Waylon’s jaw gently. He threaded his fingers through Waylon’s hair in a comforting gesture, slipping his arm free of the male’s elbow to wrap a firm embrace around him. “It’s beautiful darling. You did right by them.” He murmured into the mess of blonde locks. The owner of the museum continued to give his thanks to Waylon and Eddie for their donations and support in putting the exhibits together. Though, they didn’t linger long as Waylon worked through the crowd. Waylon listened to the people and their comments on the statue, their praise and their mentions of the story behind it. It made his heart jump in his chest and made it that much harder for him to hold back the feelings stirring up. They were quick to find a quiet place where Waylon could sit down and calm the conflicting emotions running through his mind.

 

“I miss them so much.” He finally managed after a few moments of silence. Eddie reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, withdrawing a to-go pack of tissues for the male, placing one in Waylon’s hands. He wiped at his eyes, but the tears still fell. He was filled with sorrow and grief, even after the centuries had gone. It was a cruelty to say that time heals all wounds because there were some that not even the gods and all their abilities could heal. This was a wound far beyond any that could have been inflicted upon him.

 

Eddie could only offer comfort in soft gestures and careful caresses, knowing that immortality was a curse to all who were burdened with it. His pain had been lightened with Waylon’s presence and he had hardened his heart over the years to guard against the agony that time could inflict. But that hardened facade shattered at the sight of his loved one being so broken up over events that had long since past and were so far out of their control. “I know you do darling, but you did the right thing.” Eddie reassured, his voice silky like honey, dripping sweetly from his lips. “Miles would be proud of you.”

 

Eddie caressed the side of Waylon’s face, drawing the blonde to seek shelter in the naga’s embrace. Eddie slipped his arms around Waylon’s trembling shoulders and held him as he let out all the pain that had been stacking up over the years. His own heart ached every time he saw that statue, hidden away in the temple. He remembered how many times he and Waylon went out to the mountain side and down to the forest to find those flowers to place at it with a candle burning for both of them. How many times they prayed with Miles and Chris in their thoughts. Eddie knew that tonight was going to be the hardest of all. It was no coincidence that the unveiling happened on the anniversary of the pair’s death. Waylon had been planning it for a long time and he had been adamant with the owner and the curator that this happen on this very night. The men were desperate for the pieces and had little choice but to honor Waylon’s wishes, to the very last detail. Eddie oversaw everything to assure nothing was left out.

 

It couldn’t have been more perfect and yet, Waylon was struggling through the sting of newly opened wounds. “They are with the gods now darling. They are loved and taken care of and they have each other.” He murmured into Waylon’s ear, hushing the soft sobs that shuddered through the blonde. His fingers roaming through the halo of shaggy golden locks. Waylon’s conflicted feelings started to subside after several minutes, pushing on towards a happier note. His mind sorting through all the positives that this new exhibit would provide. He could only hope that their story would be a powerful one in the eyes of others. He knew how different it was to read about it and to live it.

 

It took a few more minutes for Waylon to calm down enough to get himself back in order. Eddie cleaned him up, adjusted his sunglasses to hide the red puffy swelling around his eyes. A few sips of water to soothe the rough ball of emotion in Waylon’s throat and his cane returned to his hand. The blind man took a few deep breaths, giving Eddie a nod of affirmation as the naga escorted them back towards the main room where Waylon was greeted with the positive feedback of so many people, commending him for the statue and its legacy. He stood by Eddie’s side as they listened to the audio version of the tale, being read aloud from the exhibit speakers with several other people standing around. All of which were lost in the expressive poses of the Minotaur and the Shepherd. A few patrons, which Eddie pointed out, had walked away teary eyed. Several women ruining their very expensive make-up in the process.

 

By the time they left the building, Waylon’s heart felt uplifted. The heavy burden of his worries had faded and for the first time in a long time, he felt peace settle over him. A serenity that hadn’t graced him in centuries. Eddie offered to get the car, but Waylon opted to walk the museum gardens. The light drizzle did little to bother the blind man, giving him a whole other form of peace in his mind, taking him back to the days when he and Miles would sit in the shed, listening to the rain fall as they settled for the comfortable silence of the others presence. Surrounded by the warmth of the goats piled in around them. It was familiar and spread a warmth through his chest, reaching up to his lips to form a smile that was bordering on contagious. He let his mind wander through the fond memories and thoughts, hearing Miles’ voice in the back of his head, praising him as a warm hand rubbed slow circles across his back. “You did good Waylon.”


	23. Fan Art Chapter For: Time Heals All Wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a piece of fanart from @patchworkweddingdress on tumblr for the last chapter of this fic. It is the final scene with Waylon and Eddie in the museum during the unveiling of the statue of Miles and Chris. 
> 
> This piece was very beautiful and brought tears to my eyes all over again. I'm still not over these boys yet.

 

_“The gods- they gave me a vision and… I was to follow it. It led me here. I could feel it in my dreams. I wanted to come home. Just one last time. To spend one more day with you and to see the valley again."_

 

_"I'm finally home."_

 

_-Miles Upshur_


	24. Fan Art Chapter: The Perks of Dating Naga!Eddie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is another beautiful chibi piece for Heart of Stone for a short fun thing I wrote. Its the Perks of Dating Naga Eddie. The art is by @patchworkweddingdress on tumblr who is an amazing artist. Like seriously, you should check them out. This one is a little more sassy than the Minotaur Chris one, but that's because Eddie is a sassy little serpent.

**The Perks of Dating Naga!Eddie by Waylon Park**

_**(Written with Eddie’s and Miles’ Assistance)** _

  
  


***He is warm and gives the best hugs** (All that tail to wrap around him only makes it better!)

 

***Makes for the perfect pillow** (Waylon enjoys sleeping against his chest, like a giant serpent mattress, he fits just right)

 

***He floats!** (Waylon never has to fear the water again with his trusty Naga raft!)

 

***His tail has multiple uses**! (Rather it's hanging laundry on, getting a boost to higher places or riding on around the temple, Waylon can find need for it in many ways)

_**//E:** The better to reach you with when I want to kiss you, darling **~ <** // _

 

***Gives the best back scratches** (Have you seen those talons? They get it right where it's best and make Waylon melt)

 

***He can see** (It's no lie, Waylon can't see so Eddie is the gateway to his world.)

 

***That tail!** (Did we mention the tail? Did we also mention what  _ other  _ things it can do? *wink wink) 

_**//E:** Darling! Not in front of the children!// _

 

***He is immortal.** (Waylon never has to fear for Eddie’s safety)

 

***He is strong!** (Waylon often has to be carried around and Eddie is pleased to do so, but sometimes it leaves Waylon hanging like a scolded kitten from its mother's mouth)

 

***He is a clean freak** (Waylon never has to fear tripping up over a mess with Eddie around)

 

***He is generous.** (Opening his home to those in need of refuge, it melts Waylon’s heart.)

_**//E:** Of course, anything for you darling **~ <**// _

_**[]M:** He blackmailed you to let us in! [] _

_**//E:** My darling is very persuasive// _

  
  
  


**This concludes another lesson on The Perks of Dating Naga Eddie!**

  
  


_ P.S Darling is a real snake charmer **~ <** _

 

 

 

_ **** _

_ **** _

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_ **** _

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_ **** _

 

 

_ **BONUS PIECE:** _

 

_ **** _

_ You don’t have to worry about your boyfriend’s safety if he’s immortal, right? _


	25. Routine Phantoms (One-Shot Short)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a short piece i did a while back about the same weekend as when I finished the story completely. This scenario was stuck in my head and I think I finally decided I wanted to post it as part of an add on piece.

Eddie often has to keep Waylon on a very strict schedule for every single day, given the blind man’s disability, it was very easy for his natural biological clock to be thrown out of whack. Times when this was disturbed would leave Waylon grouchy and unsettled. Some days he would be restless and wander the temple aimlessly and sometimes he would go several days without rest. Some days the naga would have to wrestle him back to their chamber and hold him until he’d submit to sleep. Of course, Waylon would fuss and pout and sulk for hours before giving in. Or he would fall into a desolate silence and stare blankly off in the distance for hours without a single sound or movement. It would throw Eddie off and drive the Naga mad with worry.

 

He wouldn’t feel comfortable until the blind man was wrapped up safely in his arms and held tightly with his tail, murmuring soft reassurances and humming gentle melodies from the past into his ear, fingers carding through his hair in careful motions. Some days he could hold Waylon in his arms and he would slither through the empty stone halls of the temple. On days when it would rain, he could curl up at the entrance and let the soft pitter patter of droplets on the stone steps lull the blind man to sleep.

 

After years of this happening, Eddie knew on what days it mattered most. Even when they had long since left the temple and entered the modern throes of society, he would still struggle with keeping Waylon balanced with routine and his mind busy. After all, it was so easy to slip away into the darkness when there was never an ounce of light to be had.

 

Some days when rain would not suffice, he would soak them both in long warm baths or they would sit on the shower floor of their home and let the water rain down over them. This was most helpful when Waylon was suffering from nightmares. The past several centuries were not at all kind to the blind man and his disability. He suffered much with his missing sight. What Eddie often assumed was a mercy to the man, it would haunt Waylon in other ways. With voices echoing all around and words that made little sense but still haunted his heart. It would fill his chest with a heavy weight that sunk him down into an unseen ocean. He would wake in tears, gasping and crying out for Eddie, but remain uncertain on rather he was back in reality or tossed into yet another dream. Only the comforting pressure of the Naga’s coils could reassure him of the truth and he would mourn his fading fears in Eddie’s tight embrace.

 

It was not long until Eddie was forced to seek out professional help for his lover. They had tried many remedies to soothe Waylon’s fears and worries. He drank teas, listened to ancient music from many cultures and consumed the herbs of so many plants, he had lost count. He tried mystical therapies, dream readers and even resorted to the amulets and charms of several different warlocks and witches. Even taking advice from a druid at one point. Yet nothing seemed to work. There were many reasons given as to why that was but none could ever be proven as the real problem behind it. He felt lost and out of options, even resorting to the lowly options of modern medicine for help. The closest he had gotten to peace was a handful of sleeping pills and half a bottle of wine. It sated him for a week before the nightmares came back stronger than ever before.

 

It hurt Eddie, watching his lover suffer like this. Not even the magic of the gods could cure such mortal scars. These ran far deeper than anyone could see and stretched out to the beginnings of the blind man’s very long and eternal life. The only consolation came in the single voice that echoed in the back of Waylon’s mind. The soothing voice of the shepherd long since past. His white wispy eyes would stare off into the distance as he would let his mind take him back to those days. The ones where he would sit in the field and feel Miles’ hand at his back. The careful warm touch and the light laugh that always lifted his spirits. He could not see Miles’ smile, but he always knew when it would appear on the other’s face by the little tilt in his tone. He had felt it with his own fingers many times before, letting it be burned in his memories until the end of time. He would spend hours, sitting in darkness visiting his oldest of friends. Repeating the same old conversations they had had a thousand times, always the same, replaying over and over again in his mind but to him, it was more than enough.

 

Eddie would watch from a distance in silence, as Waylon’s lips would move to form unspoken words, sometimes they would come out in whispers and he would find the mentioned name among them. Eddie’s eyes would cast down in sadness as Waylon’s fears would be soothed by phantoms of the past. He would wait until the blind man would finish his conversation and curl up into the cushion he was resting on, lulled to sleep by a vinyl track stuck on repeat in his mind. The Naga had long since given up fighting with the phantoms for control. Letting them take their toll on the blind man if only to see the peace return to his features and even watch as the most genuine of smiles would grace his lover’s lips once more as he faded into the close embrace of sleep with open arms.  


End file.
